


Unfinished Business

by sweetie_or_not



Series: Bigger Plans [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: #michaelisadick, BAMF Chloe Decker, BAMF Maze tag is redundant, But great continuity, But he's so fun to write, Dan and Luci fight because they care, Excuse me while I fangirl, F/M, Fear mojo, Feels, Flashbacks, Girl Power, Hurt/Comfort, Is a thing I imagine exists, Just showing up at Linda's like you do, Linda is unsurprised, Lucifer spectacularly misses the point, Lucifer's vivid inner world, Make Michael harder not softer, Maze is bitter, Michael really just lies through his goddamn teeth, POV Chloe Decker, POV Lucifer, Plotting all the plots, Really watch 5x08 till 9:45 and then read this, Resting Demon Face, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Shower Sex, Strong women in the clutches of creepy villains, Toxic masculinity ensues, Triggers, and we love him for it, bad dream, everyone is unsurprised, plot divergence, snuggles, warning: attempted assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27680365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetie_or_not/pseuds/sweetie_or_not
Summary: “Fine, Michael.  Because you’ve given me no other choice, I’ll stay here, and you’ll explain what the hell you want with me.”“Hmph,” he let out a breathy chuckle as he went to refill his glass and poured a presumptuous second one for her, “I’d never expect you to go down without a fight.  Such a spitfire.  You know, that’s one of the things I admire about you.”  He smoothly flourished the drink towards her, and she took it with ill-grace.“Go to hell, Michael.”A butterfly flapped its wings and changed one plot point in the middle of 5x08… a very different hostage situation ensued.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Bigger Plans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184363
Comments: 36
Kudos: 222





	1. The Honorable Son

Chloe startled as her phone suddenly vibrated on the dining table next to her, half-buried under an open case file. She looked up, surprised at how late it had gotten since she left the precinct to dig into the case; evening had fallen unnoticed as she’d chased her nagging suspicion that the Whisper Killer they had in custody wasn’t really the man they were after. She was equally surprised to see Lucifer’s name was the one lighting up her phone, after their earlier discord.

“Lucifer, hi. What is it?” she tried to keep the pleasure out of her voice, knowing she should still be annoyed with him. Or, more importantly, that _he_ should know he wasn’t off the hook yet for blowing her off today.

“Darling, look, I’m so sorry about what happened earlier. Me fixating on Daniel when I should have been there for our partnership, for you.” It was pretty impressive how much he’d grown since they’d first met; sure, he might never stop putting his own needs first, but at least now he’d realize it (eventually), and had the maturity to apologize (most of the time). “But I come bearing an olive branch! I stumbled on a new lead for our real Whisper Killer - your hunch was on point, as always, Detective.” The pride in his voice always stirred her heart as much as the praise itself. “Meet me at the penthouse and I’ll fill you in over some late dinner? We can chase down this miscreant together?”

“Sure, yeah! Great. Let me grab what I’ve been working on and I’ll see you there soon. Okay, bye.” A satisfying relief settled in her chest not being at odds with him anymore, like the earth had returned to its proper axis. She quickly shut down her laptop and gathered up her papers into a rough pile, tidying them into something carriable as she poked her head into Trixie’s room.

“Hey, Monkey - I need to head over to Lucifer’s for a bit to work. You okay hanging here with Maze til I get back?”

Her daughter glanced up from her reading with a knowing, glittering smile. “Right, _work_ . It’s fine, mommy - have fun! Just don’t stay out _too_ late “working” with Lucifer.” Her eyes crinkled into shiny dark crescents. When had she learned to inflect air quotes? Two guesses who was responsible for that...

Chloe scoffed jokingly, “Hey, now - We _are_ working. Seriously!” she said at her daughter’s eye-roll - another item on the ‘blame Maze/Lucifer’ list - “But I’m happy to have your approval either way.” She planted a quick kiss on her head, and made her way towards the exit, juggling papers, keys, phone, and jacket, as she called a quick explanation and goodbye to Maze - “sure, whatever” - before breezing out the door.

\-----

The elevator chimed its familiar _ding_ as the doors slid open on the comforting view of the penthouse, golden light from the bar spilling out over the space and night skies reflected in the windows.

“Lucifer, hey!” she called out, making her way inside and setting her things down on the bartop, glad the hiccup of that morning was on the mend. “All right, what have you got for me?” She turned to see him striding down the stairs from the bedroom, and abruptly stopped.

“Hello, Detective.” That nasally drawl, that off-center bearing. Her expectations one-eightied in the time it took to blink. He drained the last of the gin from his glass and set the empty down on the piano.

\-----

“Michael.” After the roller-coaster day she’d had, she was entirely unamused, and sick of his bullshit before it even started. “What are you doing here? Where the hell is Lucifer?”

“Oh, not to worry, detective. He’s still busy spinning out on his payback plan…I saw him speed off in that pretentious car of his just before I called you. Glad I decided to hang onto his phone the other day, after all. And he thought my days of impersonating him were finished! I’m two for two now since our unfortunate scuffle: first Dan-”

“Wait, Dan?”

“Oh, no!” his grating sarcasm was already in full force, “You two hadn’t caught onto that one yet? I’d just assumed when Dan came busting in here to commit some convenient first degree, that little detail would have slipped out.” his brow furrowed in mock-sympathy. “So sorry your list of allies seems to be shrinking.”

Chloe wanted to process this, to chase down those implications, to tease out the truth from the gaslighting, but she shook it off for the here and now.

“You never answered my other question: what are you doing? Why did you call me here?” She kept her eyes on him as he made his halting way to the bar to refill his glass.

“Unfinished business, my dear. I had such a romantic evening planned for us, which unfortunately got cut short when you shot me. Repeatedly,” he deadpanned. “I’m prepared to forgive you for that, by the way. But I did want to get another chance to talk... just the two of us.” He fixed that greasy stare at her over the top of his glass. How she _ever_ tried to convince herself that he was Lucifer was beyond her. But that was still no reason to let her guard down. Sure, she knew he was nothing but tricks and lies, too cowardly to get his hands dirty, but her cop-sense told her this situation could go sideways quickly.

She began to slowly put some more space between them, cautious as during a standoff, angling her body away from his eyeline. “Fine, you’ve got me here. So talk.” ...she slowly reached behind her back. “What do you want, Michael?”

His bark of laughter almost broke her focus. “How long have you been a cop? Really - distracting me while you go for your gun? As we already established, _shooting me doesn’t work_ , so unless you have another brilliant… oh, wait. No no no, we can't have that...”

As her hand closed on her phone, pulling it from her back jeans pocket to send out a quick call to her partner, Michael’s face went dark. A buzzing rapidly swelled to fill her ears, her mind, and she was violently jolted from reality as a gruesome vision of her own mangled body lying on the penthouse floor consumed her consciousness. She gasped and doubled over, shocked and disoriented.

Just as quickly, the gut-punch hallucination was gone, leaving her reeling as she watched Michael close the distance between them in a few inhumanly swift strides. His grip latched onto her wrist, her arm drawn slowly and gently, but inexorably, towards him. His eyes were bright with a hint of manic gleam.

"Ah, now.… we may be reaching out to your little boyfriend a bit later, but I think I oughta hold onto this for now."

He released his grip as she struggled to shake off the last of the shock, her voice dropping down in its darkest Tough Cop register.

"What the hell was that?"

He casually made his way back to his drink, pocketing her phone. “You know, I almost forget - you’re used to my brother being pathetically mortal around you, huh? But you weren’t _made_ for me, like you were for him. So my Dad-given skills work like a charm on you.” He raised his glass in salute, and Chloe’s anger burned through more of the residual fog. “Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it? After the countless people you’ve used his power to help manipulate. But that reminds me! I’ve been meaning to ask: how _are_ you two doing with the whole gift-from-God thing, anyway? Quite the revelation I dropped on you last time.”

“It didn’t _work_ , Michael.” She was done listening to his condescension, and could give as good as she got. “We talk, we listen, like actual, kind adults. What we have is special. We _care_ about each other - something you would never understand - and you can’t screw that up.” She jabbed a finger at him, for lack of any other weapon. “I’m so sick of your fear, your lies… if that’s all you’ve got, _I’m not scared of you anymore._ So keep my damn phone, and your plans. I’m leaving.”

She turned to storm out, realizing belatedly that, on top of everything else, he’d shattered her apparent reconciliation with her partner, her lover. Her chest tightened and she reached, exasperated, to jam at the elevator button, when a familiar crooning voice brought her up short.

"Heelloo urchin - good news! Your mother decided to stay the night, so what would you say to a sleepover here at the penthouse as a special treat?... Splendid! Just let Maze know you'll be Ubering over -"

“No!” she spun back around, already stretching desperately out for the phone, miles from her reach...

Michael stopped mid-sentence and held the phone out; its black, locked screen started her heart beating again.

His tone had lost a fraction of its humor since her attempted departure, replaced with something crueler. “I’m not playing that card unless you make me, Chloe. But see how easy it would be? Don't think I didn't make a mental note of your lock code while we were working together, you know, in case of emergencies.”

As her emotions raced to catch up with the last 30 seconds, a fresh sliver of amplified fear whispered up her spine. She was instantly brought back to years ago. The sudden, vivid memory of Trixie, so small and defenseless in Malcolm's clutches, flashed through her mind, making it hard to breathe. Her eyes flickered shut around the sting of tears and she forced a breath through her nose, stealing herself.

Fears... just fears. You've got this, Decker.

She almost managed to keep her voice from shaking as looked that smug bastard in the eye.

"I know my kid, and she knows Lucifer. She'll never buy it. Lucky you never met her in person, or she'd have seen through your act in a second."

He considered that a moment, making a show of humoring her.

"You might be right. Your fickle human reactions prove hard to predict sometimes. So I've... taken out some insurance, if you will."

That menacing grin stretched across his lips, a twisted parody of Lucifer's easy smile. It never made it to his eyes. Chloe hovered where she stood, preparing for the next blow.

“You may know your kid, as you say. I don’t doubt that. But how well are you and your roomie getting along these days? She’s been in a pretty desperate place, and we all know how rash she can be, how determined, when she’s got her sights set on something.”

Another tendril of apprehension snaked through Chloe’s mind, of first learning that Maze was a literal torturer from hell, whom she’d let get so close to her daughter. Oh god, why had she decided that was okay? Her old rationalizations seemed to drift apart like smoke between her fingers the closer she looked at them...

“Maybe she wouldn’t pull the proverbial trigger, but are you willing to bet she wouldn’t drive your daughter over here if I asked? She’s _mine_ , Chloe. And she’s a demon. An angry, bitter, soulless demon, with nothing left to lose. And she knows Lucifer can’t give her what she wants. But I can.” He gestured to himself, glass in hand, before taking a self-satisfied sip.

A resigned dread settled into the pit of Chloe’s stomach as his words. Michael couldn’t _make_ fears. And she knew deep down that she wasn’t willing to risk Trixie’s life against those fears becoming reality. All she could do now was ensure that Trixie stayed safe, while she found a way out of this.

\-----

She saw the satisfaction slink back into his expression, the confidence that she’d briefly managed to threaten earlier returning as he watched her reach her decision. “So! Do you consider yourself properly motivated to stay for a bit and share a drink with me? Reconnect after our unexpected parting of ways? I’ve got some big plans that you play a very special part in.” They both knew the answer, but that sadistic dick was going to make her say it.

“Fine, Michael. Because you’ve given me no other choice, I’ll stay here, and you’ll explain what the hell you want with me.”

“Hmph,” he let out a breathy chuckle as he went to refill his glass and poured a presumptuous second one for her, “I’d never expect you to go down without a fight. Such a spitfire. You know, that’s one of the things I admire about you.” He smoothly flourished the drink towards her, and she took it with ill-grace.

“Go to hell, Michael.”

“Funny you should mention that! But first, where are my manners? We have our drinks, now please, do sit.” He gestured with his glass while leaning himself back against the piano. Playing host like this was _his_ goddamn place. 

Chloe had the sudden ridiculous observation that, just as Lucifer could make every phrase and gesture seem the height of charm, his brother was able to make even the most polite ones feel seedy and unsettling. An unhinged giggle nearly escaped her as she circled around to perch anxiously on the edge of the couch, the glass clutched in her hand a comforting weight. Something of Lucifer’s.

Come on, Decker. Focus. She snapped back to the room at the sound of Michael’s commencing monologue.

“Right. The whole hell situation. We all know that hell needs its proper ruler. Even Lucifer figured that one out, when the demons rose up and tried to take little Chuckie in his place. By the way, did Father Kinley ever tell you about the angelic vision he had that started him on his whole devil vendetta?” He threw her a teasing smirk, and only the sudden clenching of her jaw betrayed her urge to tackle him then and there. “But I digress…”

“Everything was going great when Lucifer went back to rule in his proper place. The rest of the angels were even happy with him for a change, though why they should be when he was finally, actually doing what he was _supposed_ to is beyond me.” She’d heard this particular grievance of his via Lucifer, but let him go on. Keeping him talking was the safest bet she had at this point. Not that it was difficult when he had his own captive audience.

“But he just couldn’t stay put, could he? Behave himself for more than, what, two seconds before his selfish nature kicked in, and he came back up here.”

“Bullshit!” Chloe couldn’t help herself. “The only reason he came back was because _you_ were messing with his life on earth!”

“He didn’t _have_ a life on earth anymore. His place was in hell, doing his job. _He_ chose to spy and interfere and not just move on already! You know, I was doing him a favor. Taking care of business for him topside, filling his shoes, so he didn’t have to worry about it anymore and could focus on his real purpose. And, lo and behold! everyone was happy with it... except you.” After the broad gesticulations that had emerged during his speech, he turned that quiet, malevolent focus back on Chloe.

His eyes studied hers, wheels turning as he tried to make sense of god-knows-what. And somewhere beneath the bitter, entitled exterior, she sensed a deeper, more malignant hurt lurking. He shook off the moment with another sip of his drink.

Chloe’s mind continued to work furiously to plan her next move. Despite herself, she took a sip of gin to steady her nerves. The wrongness of it not being bourbon struck her with painfully obvious symbolism, as Michael perhaps finally neared the point of all this, and she could find her opening.

“So, the way I see it, we’ve got to convince Luci to stay in hell. For good this time. And, just like you and I learned earlier, sometimes it takes a little convincing that the best choice is really your only option. His sense of duty clearly isn’t enough leverage, and the two of you proved surprisingly resistant to seeing your relationship for the sham it is-”

“No!” the strength of her objection brought her to standing; she’d had enough of him leering down at her while she listened to his crap. Traitorous tears sprung to the edge of her vision and she damned herself for always getting choked up so easily. At least she had something to rub in his face... 

“Your plan backfired, Michael. Trying to split us up only brought us closer together. We are _closer_ than _ever._ ” Feeling fired up and reckless at her squarely-landed dig, she took another sip. “I suppose we have you to thank for that.”

That icky grin split his features, enhanced all the more by his recent scar. “I wholeheartedly agree.” He put his hands up in a placating gesture and she felt her brief advantage falter.

“And that brings me to our leverage.” Why did he keep saying ‘our’? It was infuriating. “He _loves_ you, Chloe Decker. With all the selfish, hedonistic possession that the devil himself can muster.” She bit back her retort this time, tired of giving him the satisfaction. “And he would do anything to keep you from harm. When he finds out I’ve got you here, we both know he’ll be on his way without a second thought.” Her phone, that comment about calling him later…

“See, dear Mazikeen loaned me her blades for the occasion.” A sudden, familiar _shink_ noise and one flashed in his free hand from who-knows-where he had it secreted. Chloe’s heart betrayed her with a drop. “And, as mentioned before, _Maze herself_ is at my beck and call if needed. Invulnerable or not, he’s not bouncing back from this.” He looked down at the curved, hell-forged metal with his oily brand of affection. “So let him mount his heroic rescue; he’ll be too blinded by love to stop himself from walking right into a trap - I mean, can you get more pathetically human than that?”

Chloe desperately hoped some of his fear mojo was still swirling around her psyche, because this plan seemed dangerously solid, no matter how she tried to break it apart. Her quickly-spiraling emotions did nothing to help her critical thinking either. She couldn’t help her knees slowly buckling to bring her back to sit on the couch, eyes glassy in the middle distance as she frantically searched for an out.

She hardly noticed as he moved to kneel down in front of her, setting his glass down on the table beside him, before taking up her empty hand between both of his in a parody of consolation. The still-fighting part of her mind desperately tried, and failed, to make her pull away from his touch. Lucifer’s hands.

Michael’s words surged hollowly in her skull. “There’s two ways this can play out. Either he dies and, well, he’s dead,” a desperate string of _no no no no_ started up somewhere in the back of her mind, “or, the one we’re gonna try our best to pull off: I use you as leverage to get him to stay put in hell while I’m living his life up here. With you, chicky-poo.” His caress down her cheek almost brought the gin back up. “So I can be sure to keep you safe. I’m really hoping for the second one, for maximum ongoing torment, but honestly... I don’t see a downside to either option.”

\-----

“No…” she snatched her hand away from him, though her objection sounded pathetically weak in her ears. She tried to muster some resolve, for lack of any real argument. “You- you can’t _do_ that.” His lurking proximity made the spacious room feel stifling, and her breathing hitched with a slow creep of adrenaline.

“Can’t I? His feelings for you gave me the opening I needed. And you’ve already seen how easy it was for me to slip into his place. Everyone loved the new Lucifer; you said it yourself.”

“I was lying. And you _know_ that.” She sounded dangerously close to pleading, and cursed herself for it.

“So you said… but you’ve said a lot of things, Chloe. That you’d been stuck in the past, that change was good. If you knew I wasn’t my brother that whole time, I saw the way you looked at me. At _me_.” His eyes had taken on a soft depth that scared her even more than when they’d flashed in anger. Serene night waters hiding a deadly current.

“Are you telling me there isn’t a part of you that wants this?” She felt his hand land just above her knee and nearly jumped out of her skin. Springing up off the couch, she spun around to face him and took a couple defensive steps backwards, hearing her abandoned glass thump heavily on the floor. Her hands warded the space in front of her as he slowly rose from his crouch.

“Michael... You don’t have to do this…” Her words echoed with memories of too many standoffs to count. Desperate men she’d reasoned away from the path they felt they were bound to.

“I don’t have to. But maybe I _want_ to.” She kept her distance as he advanced at a slow prowl.

“My brother always just takes whatever he wants, never thinks about what he should do, or has to do. I’ve always been the _loyal_ son, the _honorable_ son, and has anyone ever asked me what _I_ desire? What I deserve? THIS, Chloe.”

She startled as the back of her heel came up against the bedroom stair, the responding surge of adrenaline daring her to make a desperate break back towards the elevator. But Michael was too close; his arm shot out as she attempted to dart past, quickly turning her to clutch her around the waist from behind, trapping her arms in the process. An instant later she felt the sharp press of a curved blade against her throat. Her eyes flew open wide and air whistled through her nose as she strained her chin upwards to avoid the lethal edge.

“Now, now, detective… no unexpected departures for either of us this time.” Chloe could feel his breath warm on the crown of her head, that commanding height she always admired in her partner, that made her feel protected, now a weapon turned against her. She squirmed as much as she dared, which he ignored entirely. “Like I said when you first got here: we have unfinished business to attend to.”

He began to move her effortlessly up the stairs into the bedroom, and any fighting words failed her as she saw his destination and realized how utterly overpowered she was, feet jerking ineffectively. He stopped them near the side of the bed, where she had woken blissfully just yesterday morning...

...and before then, after a spontaneous birthday misadventure, ending with the necklace she now wore…

...and earlier still, a drunken grasp for comfort and consolation, that instead started Lucifer and her on the path to a deeper companionship than she could ever have imagined.

A profound grief surged to join the storm of emotions at the echo of her memories across the years. Michael had stilled behind her, seeming to take in the room as she did. She startled back from her brief reverie at his voice.

“I was here, you know. Well, not _here_ but… near enough. To know when the night finally came. That you came over, and _stayed.._ .” A quiet tremor of anger honed the edge of Michael’s voice, and she felt it echoed in his body clenched around her. “With _him_.”

The blade pulled minutely, unconsciously tighter, but her quiet plea of “Michael… please…” evaporated unnoticed.

“After the time we spent together… how you looked at me,” he swallowed, breathless behind her, “...touched me. You promised, when our case was closed... I was waiting here for you. I was ready for you. For the night _we_ were supposed to have.” She felt his head draw down closer beside hers, his face brushing against her hair. His sudden luxuriant inhale coursed a shudder down her entire body. She desperately willed herself to stillness as she felt the answering heat rise through him, flush against her back.

He squeezed her harder still against him, as he wheedled low and rough in her ear. “Let’s keep our promise, Chloe. We could be so good together. Trust me, my brother is nothing, he’s _nothing_ , compared to what you and I can have…”

“No...” A tiny spark of resistance rekindled in her gut at the mention of her partner, gently kindling to flame. “No.” Again, more firmly, as Michael continued droning a fevered string of poisoned sweetness in her ear. She fought down her fear as the blaze inside her grew.

“NO.” This finally brought him to a stop, stiffening behind her.

"You will NEVER be as good as him!"

Her only goal was to hit a nerve, not think through the consequences. The sudden release of the blade and his grip around her nearly caused her to stumble, strained muscles suddenly taking on her weight again. The deafening slam of the blades onto the nightstand jolted her around to face him, his eyes blazing with a deadly combustion of lust and jealousy.

Before she could react, a vicious backhand caught her high on the cheekbone and she landed heavily back into the too-familiar embrace of Lucifer's satin sheets. A miasma of fear crackled and sparked in the atmosphere, like a lightning strike brewing, as she lay momentarily dazed, face smarting.

Through her swimming vision, she saw Michael peeling off his blazer and discarding it at the foot of the bed next to them, his feral grin back in place as he slowly settled himself above her, knees trapping her thighs on either side. He reached down to take her hands in his, drawing her arms up to rest on the bed above her head, as he leaned down to breathe into the hollow between her neck and shoulder.

Chloe let out a broken gasp at the triggered memory of a mere two nights before, when she'd held Lucifer in a mirror of this embrace. Wrong, so wrong. She jerked under his grasp.

As through sensing her thoughts, Michael breathed low and close into her ear. “So, I’ll never be better? You keep telling yourself that. Just close your eyes, and pretend it’s him. We’re so alike, you know...”

And, damn him, at his words, Chloe couldn’t escape the surreal sensation: the tightly-muscled weight pressing down on her, his long limbs molding around her body, the stubble that rasped against her cheek. Between the rage and the fear and the desperation, the pull was strong to slip into that fantasy, a deadly escape.

She was held back from the brink by harsh glimmers of reality: the fear shimmering around them, a discordant note in his breath as he stroked down her arms, the over-eager way he moved his body against hers. The reality of the situation closed in on her, unfathomable and suffocating.

“Yes, Chloe…” he breathed reverently as he pressed a kiss onto her throbbing cheek. She hissed in pain, arching up off the bed. He let out a choked gasp against her in response, immediately followed by the otherworldly _woosh_ and a rush of air as his wings snapped out behind him.

They locked eyes for a brief moment, Chloe’s full of barely-banked terror, his with startled wonder, which burned quickly into eager possession. A mutual realization passed between them of a corner being turned. He sat up decisively and her hands flew down to his, batting ineffectively as he began to tug his belt free. A scream was welling up inside her chest, about to break loose, when the sudden ringing of her phone started them out of their struggle.

She saw his focus momentarily turn to his jacket lying next to them, where the light was flashing dimly under the fabric. A moment was all she needed. Her aborted scream was instead unleashed as a primal yell as she slammed her doubled fists into his head with the full force of her accumulated rage.

In the second Michael briefly faltered, more caught off guard than harmed, Chloe was off the bed, on her feet, and brandishing Maze’s hell-blades in each hand, chest heaving and ready to strike.

\-----

There was absolute silence, save their twinned heaving breaths and the incongruous chiming of the phone. It stopped, leaving them both poised uncertainly in the abrupt turnabout for a single beat, before it rang out a second time, insistently.

It was Michael's turn to raise his hands in placation as he gingerly maneuvered himself off the end of the bed, watching Chloe with a wary smile and keeping out of reach.

"Now Chloe... darling -"

"You do NOT get to call me that!"

"- Are you really going to fight me off? You know the power I have over you." His brow lowered with menace over his dark stare.

Chloe flipped a blade back and forth in warning, drawing strength from the reassuring _zing_ as it seemed to cut the air itself. "You don't live with Maze without learning a thing or two." Her powerful stance and easy handling of the blades affirmed the truth of that statement, wove a thread of steel through her still-shredded nerves. "How'd you like a second scar?" she taunted, stoking her returning power. "Maybe you can lose an eye this time…"

"That's not what I meant…" His gaze intensified and Chloe's mind was slammed again with the full force of his celestial gift, a cacophony of flashing images of what had almost just happened replacing reality.

Two rapid chimes from her phone broke through the horror, and she latched with all her might to the sound, bolstered by a third as she mentally scraped and clawed her way through the storm.

"One guess who that is." A feral satisfaction darkened her voice, and the flicker of fear across Michael's face at the realization, and her growing resistance, only sweetened it. She dug into it, relishing the reversal.

"He's coming for you. He's onto your trap, Michael. Except I'VE got the blades now!" She clashed them together to drive home her point, her own vengeful grin transforming her delicate features to something deadly. "Your game is LOST. And any second now, Lucifer is going to be here and we will _kick your sorry ass into the GROUND_."

She'd realized Michael's talkativeness always seems to correlate with his confidence, his sense of control at any given moment. The way his cutting remarks and twisted manipulations had run completely dry fueled her fight; she knew, distantly, that her strength was burning hot and fast after a long strain, and couldn't hold out much longer.

Hang on, Decker. This is almost over.

Desperate, Michael doubled down with the one advantage he had left, while keeping his distance. Tendrils of fear clawed and raked at Chloe's mind. Another primal growl revved through her chest, and she struggled to hold her stance. She felt her defenses waver - _no! Hang on dammit... -_ and those merciless fingers began to penetrate her mind.

Through her buckling resistance, she imagined could hear the distant sound of the corvette screeching to a halt outside. Glancing up, she saw that Michael heard it too, panicked indecision darting in his eyes.

She could have wept, but instead rallied the last of her of her strength to stand a little straighter, firm her flagging stance. "It's over Michael," she panted, eyes on him as he glanced desperately around, searching for any last advantage, weighing his odds.

The elevator chimed, a first cautious call of "Detective?" fading in as the doors parted.

" _Lucifer…_ " she breathed, in relief and desperation, and couldn't help turning toward the sound.

"Detective??" Again, more fervently, nearing.

A rustle and blast of departing air snapped her attention back to the place Michael had been standing moments before, the dreamily settling curtains the only telltale of his ignominious departure.

"Lucifer..." she panted again, as he neared the wide doorway and saw her. The blades dropped from her nerveless grasp to clatter on the floor, and she raised her shaking hands towards him in mute appeal. 

“Chloe.” Terror, relief, love and pain married in his expression at the sight of her, and he closed the distance between them with a few long strides. His hands came gently but protectively to her waist and he gazed down, searchingly, into her eyes. "Are you all right?" Concern furrowed his brow as he gently touched her injured cheek.

A sob she'd been holding since this catastrophe started finally burst free, and she collapsed, bonelessly, trembling with exhaustion and emotion, into his stunned but ready embrace.


	2. Divide and Conquer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this parallel POV, we learn what Lucifer was up to while the events of Unfinished Business Pt 1 were going down. And how he managed to clue in and arrive in the nick of time.

Lucifer was torn. On one hand, his plan to get revenge on Dan (or, _Dan-venge_ , if you will) for shooting him was coming together brilliantly. He’d been gleefully plotting away since this morning, day wearing on into evening as he paced his penthouse taking notes, making phone calls, and generally outdoing himself. On the other hand, he kept feeling his mind tugged by some indistinguishable force. It was throwing off his groove. Tempering the sweet pleasure of well-deserved vengeance with a sour note of discord.

He paused, caught up in his contemplations, and took a sip of his drink, brow pinching in annoyance. This _really_ wouldn't do. He needed to get this mystery distraction sorted, so he could get back to the very important matter at hand. And drinking more, though generally helpful, didn’t seem to be remedying this particular problem...

His face lit up as inspiration struck.

He pulled his phone out, dialing with one hand while taking a drink with his other, and settled down on the couch as the call connected through.

“Lucif-”

“Doctor! Just the person I need.” She made a vain attempt to interject, but he carried right on over her. “Now, I’m trying to devise the ultimate punishment for Detective Douche, after he had the gall to shoot me, in front of the Detective, in my own home, no less-”

“Wait, _what_ ? Dan tried to _shoot_ you? And Chloe was there - are- are you all right?”

“What? No, I’m fine, Doctor. Right as rain, it turns out. But that’s not the _point_.” Linda swallowed her million questions as he went on. “The point is, here I am, in the middle of the best payback plan ever devised, and something keeps distracting me. It’s infuriating. I mean, how am I supposed to figure out how much pudding it’ll take to fill up a squad car when I can’t concentrate for more than five bloody minutes at a time?”

“Lucifer,” she finally managed to cut in. She took a steading breath. “Let’s slow down a moment. Take it a step back, okay?”

“Right, very well.” He took a deep inhale and let it out with an impatient huff. “I’m officially slowed. Now can we get on with the fixing my problem part?”

“Right. Sometimes when we can’t focus, it’s because our subconscious is trying to get a different message through. Has anything else happened recently that might be on the back of your mind?”

“What? No. Other than Daniel’s rather spectacular demonstration of peak douchiness last night, things have been perfectly normal. The Detective and I met up at the precinct this morning. We’d tied up our case the day before, but she kept insisting that something about it was still bothering her. She tried to dig into it with me, but I obviously had more important business to attend to, so we decided to go our separate ways for the day. So we could both focus on what mattered to us. You know, divide and conquer.”

“Ah, Lucifer. You see, that right there. It’s not like you and Chloe to leave each other like that. Especially when she has a problem she would, probably, like your help solving. Did she seem at all upset with you when you left?”

The furrow was back between his brows, and he shifted uncomfortably at the question, legs crossing, arm resting across the back of the couch while the other hand held the phone to his ear. He stewed in that a moment as Linda went on.

“I think, maybe, what you’re feeling is guilt over abandoning your partner. That might be what your subconscious is trying to get you to focus on instead of this… payback plan. No matter how important it might feel to you in this moment.”

A sudden thought sparked in his eyes. He unfolded to lean forward on the couch, as if Linda was sitting in the empty chair across from him.

“So what you’re saying is, I need to get the Detective to not be mad at me anymore, so I can get this pesky guilt out of my system and can focus on planning my revenge on Daniel? Brilliant! Excellent suggestion, as always, Doctor.”

She sputtered out an objection, but he was already pulling the phone from his ear, her protests completely lost under his “Thanks now. Bye!”

Lucifer set down the phone and gave a quick, satisfied inhale, rubbing his hands together as he stood up off the couch.

“Right! Make the Detective not mad at me…” He murmured to himself as he began pacing aimlessly. “Well, chasing down this hunch of hers is clearly _her_ priority today, her own Operation Payback Dan, as it were. To Doctor Linda's point, it stands to reason she'd want my invaluable assistance.” He flashed himself a smile at the serendipitous self-compliment, which slowly spread to brighten his whole expression as the pieces came together, “I suppose I could take a break here, surprise her back at the precinct, we'll work our magic together on the case, get an amazing break and... problem solved! I'll be back here in no time. Excellent."

He grabbed his phone, swept on his suit jacket and strode to the elevator.

Soon he was speeding away through the falling twilight, imagining Chloe’s face lighting up as he waltzed down the darkened precinct stairs to come to her aid. He could picture the glowing halo of light from her monitor and desk lamp, a spotlight on an otherwise empty stage, as that clever mind of hers worked tirelessly into the evening to solve the puzzle at hand. Suddenly, getting back to his own planning didn’t seem quite as important.

\-----

A quiet thrum of excitement rustled in his chest as he made his sweeping entrance, eager to be reunited and back to working _together,_ like always. Whose ridiculous idea was this ‘divide and conquer’ anyway? He shook his head at the notion as he breezed down the last flight of stairs.

“Detective!” he called brightly, “Guess who’s decided you could use my help after all?”

His momentum stuttered awkwardly to a stop, eyes sweeping the room. No spotlight on his lovely partner. No heart-warming smile at his arrival. Just quiet, deserted desks all around. He deflated with a sound of annoyance, which tried and failed to cover his disappointment, and made his way to her desk.

Scattered papers, hasty notes, a desk drawer slightly ajar. No sign of the case files from yesterday. His eyes fell on her desk calendar and he gave an exhale of relieved exasperation. “Of course, you’ve got the offspring to take care of this evening. I wish you’d told me that before I came all the way here, Detective.” He picked up a discarded note from her desk, turning it over with a cursory glance. “Took the old crime-solving show on the road from the looks of it. That makes it a lot more difficult for me to help you, you realize.” He leaned to focus in on the hastily scribbled writing, sifting through a few other items she’d left behind in her hurry.

The sudden sound of the hulking printer-copier juddering to life startled him from his search, overly-loud in the deserted space.

"Bloody… possessed technology." He shook his head walking over to it. "Hello? Any demons in there?" he called out in its direction. "Well, that _would_ explain your uncanny ability to torture everyone in the precinct..." Daniel had nearly gotten into a physical altercation with the thing last week.

He neatly pulled the bottom-most sheet from the growing stack being churned out. "Oh, it's for the Detective! Why, I take back my insult then, Mr. Copier." His brightened expression faded as he read the cover letter.

_Wait, what...?_

Brow furrowing, he roughly pulled the accumulated stack from the printer, eyes quickly scanning as he flipped the pages. Screenshots of online conversations, clearly from someone with intimate knowledge of the murders… explaining them in great detail to somebody else. Somebody else who was quite fascinated, kept wanting to know more, drilling for particulars and guidance “...almost as if they wanted to recreate it for themselves.” His observation was nearly lost under the repetitive whirring clunks of the copier, still adding to the growing pile, the unmistakable evidence that they had a copycat on their hands… and in their lockup.

“Which means the real killer is still out there.” He quickly gathered the rest of the papers together as the last few finally cleared. His breathing seemed loud in the returned silence. “Detective, there are times when I would really rather that you _weren’t_ always right. Also, we clearly need to get you a fax machine at home.”

\-----

He was soon knocking on the door to her apartment, neat stack of papers tucked under his arm. Oh, who was he kidding? He turned the knob and sauntered his way in.

“Detective, look. I’m sorry about earlier, I should have never taken off like that. But!” he held up the stack in both hands…

“Lucifer?” His head swiveled to the sound of Maze’s voice, as she turned from her spot on the couch and looked back towards him. “What are you doing here?” An undercurrent of animosity was in her tone, but banked by perplexity.

“I’ve come to help the Detective, of course. Lucky for her I was at the precinct when this came in,” he tapped the stack in indication, and glanced around for his aforementioned partner. Confusion swept across his features as she clearly wasn’t in her usual work-from-home spot at the dining table, or standing in the kitchen, or anywhere else immediately apparent.

He turned his puzzled look on Maze, as she rose from the couch and stalked towards him, emanating wary hostility.

“She’s supposed to be with you. You called her, like, an hour ago. To meet you at the penthouse, for stupid _apologies_ and _make up sex_.” Bitterness twisted her tone and brought a snarl to her features.

“ _What_ ? No, the Detective and I haven’t spoken since this morning. In fact, I was coming _here_ to apologise, see if I could help her on her case. She wasn’t at the precinct, so I assumed she’d be home. I know she has the child for the night...”

As if on cue, said child emerged from her room. Her usual brightness at seeing him faded quickly in confusion. “Hi Lucifer… is my mom with you? I thought you were meeting at your place.”

“Uh, Trix, they had a little change of plans. Head back to your room now, and we’ll sort this out. Go.” Maze's eyes flashed in seriousness, but not without love. Trixie slowly complied, glancing warily back over her shoulder, perceptive as always to when the grownups were not being entirely honest with her.

Maze let out a huffed “huh” as the door closed, and turned her glare back on Lucifer. Her resentment at him over her mother, her soulless state, every damn thing, was banked to a low simmer, like countless times before, as realization of a bigger problem dawned.

Lucifer watched and clearly was reaching the same conclusion.

“Mazikeen,” he said in deadly earnest, “what do you know?”

“Ok fine. I’ve been working with Michael.” Lucifer gave a sudden sound that was both unsurprised and furious. Maze jerked her hands up in defense. “BUT, this was not part of the plan.” Steel crept into her voice. “He _knew_ . He crossed a line before with Chloe, and I was _not_ going to let him do that again. He can do what he wants with you,” she sneered, “you two deserve whatever destruction you bring on each other. But Chloe... stays _out of it._ He gave me his word.”

“Oh!” Lucifer’s incredulousness boiled over, “He gave you his WORD. Well, bloody brilliant, Mazikeen! Now who knows what that vile, lying, brother of mine is up to. With Chloe.” His anger was suddenly doused with cold fear. He was already heading towards the door.

“Lucifer!”

“I’ll deal with you later. I’ve got to get to the Detective.”

The door slammed on any further arguments.

\-----

As he sped back towards Lux, he tried to talk himself down from his panic. Michael was manipulative, yes, and isn’t that the understatement of the millennium, but he wasn’t violent by nature. Well, not with anyone but _him_. But their animosity was eons old, and Michael had only just met the Detective. Surely their short time together hadn’t had an impact. Though Michael might see her as a way to get to him, and that was dangerous enough

He quickly dialed her cell, glancing down at his phone while maintaining his reckless speed. The first call went to voicemail. He hung up with a sound of frustration and immediately dialed again, this time leaving a message as she once more failed to answer, concern returning in full force.

“Detective. I need you to call me. Please. I’m not sure what’s happening, but my brother… just, call me.” He hung up awkwardly, truly worried. Frustration surged unexpectedly as he hit a red light. He wrung his hands on the steering wheel, and he let out a snarl - why hadn’t he just left the car at the apartment and flown there? He used the moment to send a quick text.

R U OK?

The foolish characters glowed back at him as the light turned as he sped on his way, still no reply.

??????

He frantically jammed out with one hand.

CHLOE?

But nothing, no answers, no peace of mind. He was almost there. He tried to slow his breathing, tried again desperately to assume the best. The Detective was a strong, intelligent woman, fully capable of dealing with his sorry excuse for a brother. Why, she handled worse characters than him with ease, every day on the job. She was fine.

She had to be fine.

He screeched to a halt in the alley, line of club-goers looking on and commenting in excitement. He left the keys in the ignition, not bothering to toss them to his valet as usual, and ignored the curious masses as he hurried inside.

He brushed off hails and passing touches, why was his club so bloody _crowded?_ and weaved his way to the elevator, a trail of dismissed patrons in his wake, bobbing like so much detritus.

The elevator made its agonizing crawl upstairs as he once again attempted to bring his nerves in check. But he was already calling out to her as the doors began to slide open.

“Detective?”

He looked frantically around, surprised by the apparently empty room, before making his way inside. Bizarrely, he noticed, all of his notes and scrawlings from before had been tidied away somewhere. An empty glass rested on the table, another fallen, forgotten on the floor nearby. He studied the evening light reflecting in its spilled contents, a story untold.

A slight sound from the bedroom abruptly snapped him back, the barest hint of his name coming on a breath.

“Detective??”

He approached at a strong but wary stride. His pulse thudded at the unmistakable sound of powerful wings launching into motion, panic quickening his last steps.

“Lucifer…”

There she was. Whole and unharmed and... alone. Relief flooded through him, but wavered slightly as he saw Maze’s blades clatter from her grasp to the floor _what?_ and she raised her lovely arms to him with a look of utter overwhelm.

“Chloe.” His heart wrenched in five directions as he closed the distance between them. His hands came up reflexively to her waist, feeling her skin warm through her blouse, her stomach shuddering with breath and nerves.

He searched her expression to ensure himself of her well-being, trying to read the story behind her eyes. His gaze fell on a small cut marring her check, angry pink spreading around the edges, and his hand was there, a feather touch of concern.

“Are you all right?” Such a small injury, compared to others she’d endured. But he knew it was only the barest glimpse of the evening’s events.

As if she could sense his realization, he saw the tears well in her eyes, a sob breaking free that crushed his heart along with it. It was all he could do to catch her, but there was no question but to catch her, as her legs gave out and she fell shuddering into his chest.

He brought his arms around her and leaned his head down protectively over hers, making his body her armor as the emotions wrung out of her. Knowing he would be there when she was ready to share with him what on earth had happened. And hoping desperately it was enough.


	3. Dirty Laundry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited in the aftermath of Michael's hasty departure, Chloe and Lucifer open up about their evenings, and take the first steps to putting the past behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Hooray - Deckerstar nookie ahead! Conveniently bracketed by the marked scene breaks (second one in), if you like to skip over such shenanigans and still retain all the plot. For those who would never miss this, I’ve kept the content in line with what we’ve seen in the show, maturity-wise. Though in the camera angle in my mind, we do get an awesome Chloe butt shot. You’re welcome. (I’m also drafting out a “director’s cut” stand-alone explicit version, but figured I should take care of, you know, this pesky plot first.) Anyhoo, choose your own adventure and enjoy!

Lucifer slowly brought his head up as Chloe’s sobs faded to some final shaking sniffles. They’d sunk to the floor at some point, limbs surrendering willingly to gravity’s pull, organically entwined. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

His eyes scanned the bedroom distractedly over Chloe’s shoulder, senses a little detached in the aftermath of such heightened emotions, re-grounding. Maze’s blades still lay on the floor near them, glinting in the soft glow of the bedside lamps. A fresh kick of adrenaline twisted unexpectedly in his gut as he saw Michael’s jacket draped on the bed, left behind in his haste. His mind cast back to the glass spilled on the living room floor, the slightly disheveled bedspread. Chloe seemed, well,  _ relatively _ unharmed. Surely…

He turned to look at her again as they began gently untangling limbs, unfolding from their long embrace. Chloe brought her hands to rub at her face, shaking off some of the daze, and her eyes met his, red-rimmed but clear.

“Detective…”

“Hi Lucifer.”

‘Hi,” he breathed out on an expressive sigh, and they both shared a moment of fully acknowledging their current state, safe and whole. Crisis averted (for now). Here, together. Chloe shook her head, an incredulous laugh in her voice.

“Oh... my god.” Shock and endorphins and relief were making a heady mix. Lucifer was just thrilled she seemed to be coming back to herself again.

“You doing okay?” She wagged her head in reply, eyes still a touch unfocused. “Drink perhaps?” He knew he could use one.

“Yes, that sounds… yes.”

Chloe scooched forward to sit on the edge of the stairs - standing and walking seemed like way too much effort at the moment - as Lucifer headed quickly to the bar, falling back into the comforting motion and routine of pouring drinks for the two of them, shedding his jacket while he was up.

He handed a glass down to her, the sight of the swirling amber liquid settling one more piece of her evening back to rights. She shifted to make room and he settled down next to her, his long legs stretched out, her curled in a comforting ball around her drink.

He gave his glass an awkward clink against hers, things still far from normal, but thankfully moving back in that direction. Her answering smile gave him hope in that regard, and they both took a slow, grateful draught. Chloe’s eyes closed in appreciation, head tipping back.

“That doing the trick?” she heard him say.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, Lucifer.” She gave him a warm smile, emotion creeping into her gaze.

“You’re very welcome.” He returned her smile, affection, dedication, compassion flaring in his chest. He raised his glass again in acknowledgement, and broke off the moment with another sip, not feeling like either of them were ready just yet to dive back to those depths.

“So, Detective…” he supposed now was as good a time as any, “I spoke to Maze. She said I’d called you? Or so you thought…”

“Right! Yes.” Chloe snapped back to the start of the evening - how many hours ago had that been now? “I was home working on the case, and... and you called.” She knew she needed to keep up the momentum of the story, like crossing a lake of too-thin ice. “You wanted to meet me here for dinner, show me something you’d found, some new lead.”

Lucifer’s stomach clenched at Michael’s uncanny prediction of his own behavior, resentment coiling, but he let Chloe go on. He had the feeling she would get this story out once and once only.

“I came over, and you were here… but of course, it wasn’t you. It was Michael.” His name felt like poison passing over her lips. She took a drink to wash the sensation away.

“We talked. He.. he wanted me to stay, to hear him out, this whole plan he had. I tried to leave, but he stopped me.” Lucifer’s eyes flared in alarm. “No, no, he was just talking, but he used his, you know,  _ fear _ mojo on me. It was…  _ so _ awful. And effective,” Chloe admitted grudgingly. “I mean, yours doesn’t work on me, as he gladly pointed out, so it was really… Lucifer, it was like nothing I’ve  _ ever _ experienced.”

“Well, he certainly has his powers cut out for him.” Anger brought a bitter edge to his words. “But, you didn’t let him get to you? You were able to see through his charade?”

“Well, that’s just it. I tried, really Lucifer, I tried. But it was just  _ too real _ . He knew exactly what to say to convince me, to make me stay and hear him out. He… he threatened Trixie. He said Maze was working with him…” her eyes suddenly flashed, questioning, to Lucifer.

“She’s fine, your offspring is absolutely fine. Safe at home.” He brought a hand to rub her arm in reassurance, and she deflated with a sigh of relief, taking another drink. “Yes, Maze  _ was _ working with that lying wretch, but when we realized you were his target, she rather quickly changed her tune. I believe you’ve actually managed to earn that demon’s loyalty. Something I’ve been struggling with for the past few millennia....”

“Huh.” Chloe let that knowledge sink in, another of Michael’s manipulations crumbling away. This time leaving a foundation of steel that wasn’t there before. She took a breath to tamper down the fierce pride picking behind her eyes, and went on a little stronger.

“So yeah, I was stuck here, listening to him.” She gestured to the living room. “He kept going on about this plan of his. He knew he couldn’t split us up, so he would use that against you, set a trap, to either kill you, or keep you in hell. I was the bait.” She gave a mirthless smirk. “He had me  _ so _ convinced you’d come running and fall right into it.”

Lucifer listened on in silence, letting her talk through it, quietly accounting the tally to be repaid in full. Soon.

“But then… something changed. It wasn’t just about getting back at you, sending you to your ‘rightful place’. It was... about me. I’m not sure he even knew that, knew how to process… it’s like he was trying to make sense of something he hadn’t accounted for. And figuring it out as he went.” Her tone had faltered a bit, and her eyes drifted to focus on their glasses still sitting in the living room, just as they’d left them…

Her jolting up from the couch, Michael following after her… the blade suddenly against her throat...

“Detective?” Lucifer’s soft voice and hand brushing up her arm brought her back. She gave her head a quick shake, drawing in a deep breath. He looked at her in question, but she exhaled and went resolutely on.

“I stood up, tried to back away, to get away, regardless of what he’d said before… but he was too fast. He grabbed me - he had the blades. I.. I couldn’t fight him.” She struggled now to keep her voice steady, to keep from tumbling into the emotions raging just beneath the surface. She locked onto her partner’s face, his expression an anchor of strength, concern, and understanding.  _ You’ve got this, Decker.  _ God, it was like getting through this all over again. Her heart was pounding.

“We… he took me…” Her words failed her as her gaze was pulled back into the bedroom, eyes stinging, caught by the story, by what came next. How could she possibly put it to words, to bring those memories to life again? Just the thought was suffocating. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her breathing to slow.  _ I’m sorry... but I can’t _ .  _ I just… can’t.  _ She swallowed and met his eyes. 

When she spoke again, her voice was like carefully measured stones, dropping in a well.

“We fought. I got the blades. I got away. You showed up... and he left,” she concluded, carefully shuttered, any more detail once again locked away behind her eyes.

Lucifer knew, of course he knew, that there was so much she left out. And a part of him flared in frustration, at not  _ knowing _ , being trapped with this vague retelling and not the needed pieces to fully put his mind at rest, to know exactly what his brother had to answer for. Then immediately kicked himself, ashamed at his unexpected response. He smothered down both feelings, focusing on his equally strong compassion and sympathy for his partner.

“When Maze told me, I was so worried… but I knew, I kept telling myself that you would be okay. You  _ had to _ be okay. And you were. No thanks to me.” The first flicker of guilt had crept up on him unsuspecting. He finished the last of his drink, as angry with himself for the realization as he was at it bringing it into their conversation.

“Lucifer, no. This was  _ not _ your fault.” Chloe reached out, resting her hand on his arm in reassurance. “Your timing was actually perfect. When you called me. I mean, really called me.”

“Wait, that’s right… how did my brother call you, to get you to come over here?”

“Oh! I completely forgot… he had your old phone.” Lucifer’s brow furrowed, puzzled. “You left it somewhere the other day - remember when you told me you’d lost it?” Grim realization slowly dawned, his misguided attempt to play hard to get, the bullet dodged at the time proving disastrous after all. One more thing to blame himself for in this. He got up to refill his drink, frustration clear in his movements.

Chloe watched him warily as she went on, knowing this wouldn’t be easy to hear. “Michael told me he’d called Dan too… when he first got your phone. That he was behind Dan shooting you.” She flinched as he slammed the glass on the counter.

“Bloody brilliant, so not only do we have an unhinged Daniel on our hands, he’s in league with my equally unhinged brother.” He spun to face Chloe and immediately banked his rage at the look on her face. Bollocks. He was  _ not _ going to ruin this, though damn fine job he was doing at it so far. Of  _ course _ she would be just as upset with Daniel, scared of what this might still mean... He quieted his nerves with a deep breath, and gave her a look of apology.

“No need to worry about that now; I’ll have a little chat with our dear Douche in the morning. I promise you.” He took a few steps towards her and she rose from the stair in response, setting her glass down and taking his hands in hers. “What matters now is  _ you _ . You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll be… I’ll be fine.” She nodded up at him.

“Well, then. It’s been an eventful evening to say the least.” He suspected she was more than ready to get home and get some rest, and began turning them toward the elevator in reflex.

“Lucifer, can I stay?” Her quiet question caught him off guard. “Here tonight, with you?” Being alone with her thoughts, on the drive home and the long night in bed, was suddenly just… the last thing she needed right now.

Lucifer was surprised, but not at all put out. His expression brightened in response. “Of course! You think you need to ask? I’ll just go and-” Her grip on his arm stopped him, unexpectedly strong.

“No. Stay.” Her bright gaze searched his in the warm light from the bar. “Please?” She drew her hands up his arms, crisp fabric sliding under her touch.

“Detective… are you sure?”

“Would you  _ stop... _ asking me that,“ she said a touch too firmly, before catching herself. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure.” Her emotions were riding uncomfortably close to the surface, kicked up again from the retelling. Everything felt sharp, raw. It  _ had _ been a long, long evening. Lucifer didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t back away either as she stepped in closer and laid her head against his chest.

The reassuring scent of him brought her up short, heightened senses flaring. She cycled her breath, slow and deep, in and out, as if she could purge each tainted oxygen molecule and replace it with the imprint of him. Awareness swept over her, pressing and close. She needed, badly, to be  _ free _ from every last terrible memory, experience, feeling of the last few hours.

She looked up at her partner, decision sparking in her gaze, and reached to pull him down into a kiss. He paused at the last moment, lips nearly brushing hers.

“Detective -”

“I swear, if you ask me one more time…” She roughly pulled him to her and he went without protest. Nerves singing in response, he fell deep into her kiss, suddenly just as caught up in the need for release, for reconnection, for simple  _ distraction _ , as she was. It  _ had _ been a very long evening.

\-----

Lucifer’s arms came around her and Chloe leaned gratefully into his strength, mouth firm on his, hands clinging in his hair. But the need for  _ more _ soon compelled her, and she broke away to begin unbuttoning his shirt, eyes burning with an urgency he hadn’t seen in her before. He was torn between being concerned and chasing her eagerly down that path. Her expression at his momentary hesitation brooked no argument, and he brought his mouth hungrily to her jawline, her neck, as he felt his shirt being tugged free from his waistband.

Chloe coursed her hands along his abs, his low back, relishing the feel of the lean muscle beneath her touch. She needed to feel more of that warmth against her skin. Reaching for her own shirt, she pulled it free from her jeans. Lucifer instantly followed her lead, helping her draw it up and over her head, tossing it carelessly aside.

He gave Chloe a long, admiring look, peeling his own shirt down his arms and dropping it with hers. His hands came firm around her waist, and she reached to hook her fingers into his waistband, stormy gaze scorching up at him through her lashes.

She glanced around and tightened her grip, suddenly needing to be  _ anywhere _ other than standing... Her eyes fell to the couch, but an unexpected flare of panic quickly made her reconsider. She ruthlessly pushed the feeling aside, and began backing them towards the bedroom, releasing one hand and turning away with a flirtatious smile to pull Lucifer behind her. He took her cue without hesitation, grinning in answer, and moved in close behind her, circling an arm around her waist and nuzzling against her hair.

He felt her suddenly stiffen, steps faltering, and he immediately loosened his grip, cautiously gauging her reaction. After a tense pause, she glanced behind her shoulder and her bright eyes found his. She turned to take his face in both her hands, and he stilled under her scrutiny, eyebrows raised in silent inquiry. Unknowable thoughts passed behind her eyes for a breath, two, before she brought her arms fiercely around him. He leaned down into her embrace, pressing her to him, arms warm and secure on her back.

Lucifer gently disengaged, drawing a long caress down her arm to take her hand. He kept his eyes locked with hers, tender and passionate, as he led them up the stairs. Chloe’s heart flared, in joyful memory this time, to a bare few days ago - their first incredible night together. How much there was to undo, to redo, to make fresh again in her mind.

But before her thoughts could stray down any dark paths lurking in the bedroom, Lucifer was unexpectedly drawing her around the corner, eyes shining as he led her down the darkened hallway. The area of the penthouse she’d been in the least. Pleasantly neutral ground.

Soft lights flared to life… if ever a bathroom could be called sensual, this one could. Stone accents, dark reflective surfaces, back-lit glow. Perfectly aligned with the rest of the penthouse. The generous space felt more like a spa, really.

Lucifer left her briefly to turn on the shower, the rush of water against stone and glass lending a soothing ambiance. He turned and started in approval as she slowly approached, slipping off her bra along the way. He caught her up in another hungry kiss, gliding his hands down her bared back, raising goosebumps in the steamy air.

They shared an awkward smile as they bent to the inelegant task of removing shoes and socks, grins widening as they stood and simultaneously endeavored to undo each other’s waistbands and zippers, playful and eager. Triumphantly shedding their last garments, they drew each other close, hands exploring the freshly revealed expanses of smooth skin, mist just beginning to cling.

They kissed their way under the spray, both sighing in delight as the sensual warmth suffused their entwined bodies. Steam swirled heavy around them, and they drifted with it, gladly giving themselves over to the comfort, to the escape. Ready and willing to lose themselves in each other, and find their way home again.

\-----

A long while later, both thoroughly boneless, Lucifer left Chloe with firm instructions to keep soaking as long as she liked, giving her a last, lingering kiss in farewell. It certainly wasn’t a hardship to comply, and she idled gratefully, warm and resplendent. 

She combed her fingers through her hair under the falling water, massaging out her scalp and neck. She  _ never _ took the time to relax like this at home, and made a mental note to definitely take advantage, now that she was spending more time over here. She regarded her pruney fingers, her pinked and glowing skin with pleasure, shutting off the water at last and stepping into a waiting towel.

She padded her way softly out into the bedroom to see Lucifer, looking dashing as always in his favorite black robe and pajama pants, smoothing down the covers with care. He turned at her quiet approach, and gave her towel-clad form an appreciative once-over.

“Well… remind me to do  _ that _ with you more often,” he crooned as he ran his hands along her sides, threatening to dislodge said towel (unintentionally, of course). Chloe surreptitiously grabbed the top in response, keeping it securely wrapped, and tiptoed to kiss him with a smile.

Suddenly, something caught her eye and she leaned to peek behind him. The windows were open, letting the fresh, balmy evening air drift through the space. A candle was burning on the nightstand, her phone charging nearby. The sheets were freshly changed, and one of Lucifer’s white shirts lay across the foot of the bed. Chloe knew without looking that any other reminders of the earlier part of her evening would have been cleared away from the rest of the penthouse as well. Her heart clenched.

“Lucifer… you-”

He jumped to intercept her train of thought, “I know you’ve become rather fond of raiding my closet for your sleepwear, so I thought I’d beat you to it.” Whether he was feeling uncharacteristically modest, or just tactfully skirting the subject, she wasn’t sure. But she appreciated it nonetheless.

“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Lucifer.”

“Of course.” He leaned to kiss her forehead in reply.

“Though actually, where’s the one you were wearing earlier?”

He gave her a puzzled look, but didn’t argue, “I certainly won’t stop you from raiding my dirty laundry as well, if that’s what you desire.” He quickly stepped away at her nod, returning swiftly to hand Chloe the requested shirt. He busied himself turning down the covers, and Chloe smiled at the adorable concession to her modesty - as if he wasn’t already intimately familiar with her naked body - while she slipped out of the towel and into her purloined sleep attire. She brought a handful of the loose fabric up to her face and indulged in a deep inhale of his comforting scent, before bringing her hand to his shoulder.

He turned at her touch, smiling down at her with such affection, it gave Chloe’s heart another painfully sweet squeeze.

Lucifer ran a hand down her arm. “Shall we?”

Her exhaustion finally caught up with her at the thought of slipping into bed with him. “Yes. Oh yes.”

Tossing off his robe, he leaned to blow the candle out and climbed into bed. Chloe followed quickly behind, snuggling up against his chest and pulling the covers snug around them.

“Goodnight, Lucifer,” she said on an eloquent yawn.

He reached to turn off the bedside lamp and was about to return the sentiment, but Chloe was already drifting off. He smiled quietly down at her instead, and held her a little tighter to him. He stayed watching her in the moonlight for some long minutes before sleep claimed him as well.

\-----

Maze had settled into her usual late-night horror movie session, legs stretched across the couch, popcorn bowl in easy reach. She was tossing back a handful when she was startled by the sound of a quiet knock, the glow from the screen flickering across her still face.

She rose fluidly from the couch, drawing a knife from behind her back as she did so - not one of her blades, but it would do in a pinch - and made her way to answer the door. She spared a glance to Trixie’s closed bedroom, but the kid was usually dead asleep at this hour. That was good. Because Chloe wouldn’t knock.

A glance through the window confirmed her fears. She smoothed her expression to Resting Demon Face as she opened the door, aiming for her usual nonchalance.

“Good evening, Mazikeen. Did I catch you at a good time?”


	4. Goodnight, Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this short-but-sweet chapter, Maze matches wits with Michael, and Chloe's restful night takes an unexpected turn.

Maze was less than thrilled by the unexpected arrival of her late-night visitor. She acknowledged him with her usual disinterest, while mentally preparing for the dozen ways this encounter could go.

“Michael. What’s up.”  _ Dammit _ she wished she'd gotten ahold of Chloe earlier, knew what was going on.

“May I?” He gestured to come into the apartment, and she stepped aside, seeing no plausible reason not to, grimacing inwardly.

“Yeah, Chloe’s out at Lucifer's. Trix is with her grandma,” she lied smoothly.

"Ah, so you haven't spoken to either of them any time recently?" He watched her intently, studying her reaction.

"No, not since Chloe left. And you know Lucifer's not in my  _ good books _ at the moment." That at least was all true. "But Chloe could be back any minute, so we should make this quick." The bastard better not have hurt her. She kept her expression carefully neutral while mentally cataloging the most painful ways of eviscerating him if he had.

"Right, of course. So there's been a… slight change of plans." His voice held a faint edge, nonchalance plastered ineffectively over a seething temper, his movements stiff with it. "I had a bit of a run in, with my brother. I obviously came out fine but, unfortunately, lost your blades to him in the process."

Maze forced her expression one of mild concern, while inwardly chewing on that new information. With a heaping block of salt, given the source. Michael with no blades, good. Still no proof that Chloe was ok. Still pissed at Lucifer. But that was a given.

"I didn't tell him you were working with me." He held his hands up, misreading her silence. "He thinks I took the blades from you."  _ Ha!  _ In how many centuries Lucifer had never gotten close to taking even one off her, let alone his pathetic brother. She nodded, feigning reassurance.

"So, given the new circumstances, do you think the two of us could still take him down? I'm  _ sure _ you wouldn't let this little setback stop you from keeping up your side of our arrangement..."

"You just tell me where and when. I'll deliver Lucifer, we'll get the blades back, and he won't know what hit him." They shared a feral grin at the prospect. Maze's was more than sincere. 

_ Someone  _ wouldn’t know what hit him…

\-----

_ Chloe lay late in the night, stretched out in Lucifer’s bed, sheets silky against her raised arms, mattress cradling beneath her. Only, something wasn’t right. Far from it... _

_ Someone disconcerting familiar, but that made the wrongness even more apparent, was there with her. His scent, his heat. Enveloping her body with his, invading her space, her very air, heavy and insistent against her, preventing her escape. Had been for some time now, desire and desperation building. _

_ Her captor. Michael. _

He pressed a kiss onto her throbbing cheek. She hissed in pain, arching up off the bed.

_ She’d lived through this before, but that did nothing to dim the fear; if anything her senses were heightened in memory. _

They locked eyes for a brief moment. He reached for his belt buckle and her hands flew to his.

_ Any second now, the phone would ring… she would get her chance. She would make this sick bastard pay...  _

_ But something wasn’t right. Why wasn’t it ringing? Where was Lucifer? Oh god… _

A scream welled up inside her chest, and broke loose as he grabbed her wrists with one hand and yanked his belt free with the other.

_ This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening… _

\-----

Lucifer came slowly awake at the sound of Chloe’s quiet whimpering, jolting fully alert when he registered what had disturbed his sleep.

His hand rose tentatively to her shoulder, distinctly concerned with not alarming her further.

“Detective… Chloe? Wake up, darling, you’re all right.” She didn’t notice his gentle shakes, and he sat up further, worry marring his brow.

Switching tactics, he reached down to smooth the hair back from the side of her face, looking with concern at her pinched expression. His hand reached her neck and her eyes snapped open on a gasp, wide and pale in the slanting moonlight.

She turned with a start, slapping away his hand like it burned her, before her eyes focused on him and reality permeated her frantic expression. Her held breath left her in a rush, and she collapsed back into the bed, hands coming up to rub roughly at her face, loose shirt sleeves flopping.

She hissed as she accidentally pressed on her cheek, and froze, jaw clenching. Another breath shuddered free as she rolled to bury herself against Lucifer, who’d been watching this whole process in stunned silence.

His arms came around her shoulders and he settled them gently onto the bed, stoking her back and filling the dark air around them with murmurs of comfort. He felt the tension begin to drain from her once more, muscles relaxing with heavy sighs as she shook the stress off.

“Oh my god.” She was strangely lightheaded in her relief, still working through her shock. “I just had the most  _ awful _ dream. But it  _ was _ just a dream. Except the parts of it that weren’t…”

Lucifer took in her perplexing statement, stilling his caresses and shifting to glance down at her.

“Darling, are you sure you’re all right?” Was he ever going to stop feeling the need to ask her that? This time she didn’t protest.

“Yes. No.” She let out a half laugh, half sob, exhausted from  _ feeling _ so much, especially in the middle of the night. She just wanted to  _ rest _ , to just turn her emotions off for at least a little while. She propped her chin on Lucifer’s chest and looked up at him. His eyes glowed with concern in the darkness.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she let herself have an uncharacteristic pout, feeling safe to do so with him. “I just want to forget about it…” She rolled over on her back, staring up at the high ceiling, all but invisible in the small hours of the morning. Lucifer turned on his side to watch her as she spoke.

“I just wish it would be over, you know? I mean - I’m fine, really, no harm done. So how do I just… feel normal again?” She was so used to being the one to take action, to solve other peoples’ problems. Being at the mercy of her own complicated circumstances left her feeling adrift and powerless.

“I’m no expert,” Lucifer put in gently, “but I have a feeling Dr. Linda would say that you can’t rush getting past something. It’ll happen in due course. As you take proactive steps.”

“Wow, someone’s been listening.” She glanced at him with a grin, and he couldn’t help but preen quietly. “You know, you may be right, Dr. Morningstar. Proactive steps....”

“There’s one or two of those I’d like to take towards shoving my foot up that vile monster’s-”

“Lucifer, Lucifer.” She stopped the impending hyperbole with a hand on his chest. “I agree. Wholeheartedly. And thanks for that… charming mental image. But it’s late. And I’m  _ so _ tired.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Nothing to be done now, of course… But, d’you think you can fall back asleep?”

She took stock of the deep wave of languor suffusing her body, the exhaustion coming in hard after her unexpected rousing. “Oh yes. Definitely.” Her eyes were already sliding shut as she nestled back against his chest, warm and strong and comforting.

“Well, then. Goodnight, Detective.” His arms came willingly around her, and he planted a kiss on the top of her head. This was far from over, but he’d learned the value of not rushing a well-deserved punishment. The grim joy in devising a truly worthy sentence. And his brother had more than earned the worst... But he set such dark thoughts aside for the daylight, smiling down at his already dozing parner, and settled gratefully in for another few hours’ sleep.

He had thoughtfully silenced Chloe’s phone for the night, so neither of them were disturbed by the call that came in shortly after.


	5. The Least I Can Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Lucifer both turn their focus to planning their next moves, and calling in their allies.

Chloe awoke to the breeze tugging at a few stray wisps of her hair. She cracked her eyes open slowly to the early daylight which streamed through the windows surrounding them. The air drifting in smelled faintly like the ocean, clean and refreshing.

She’d slept like the dead - thank goodness - for the last few hours, and stretched gratefully, feeling infinitely better than last time she’d awoken. Yesterday felt like a distant memory in that brief moment of waking… but already the edges were starting to come into focus, awareness coalescing of the troubles left to face. Still, her problems seemed more bearable in the sober light of day, workable, and she settled their burden in the back of her mind. Time enough for all that later.

She’d felt Lucifer stirring in response to her movements, and turned a sleepy eye on him.

“Good morning,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace just yet, and brushed a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

“Good morning, Detective,” he breathed softly back in her ear. “Why are we whispering?” He leaned in closer with a smile, breath tickling against her neck, and she squirmed against him, holding in her laughter.

Things felt so much like their first morning waking up together, fresh and playful. Unguarded. Chloe was looking forward to many, many more just like this. Soon enough. She sighed wistfully.

“I wish I could stay, but Trixie’s been home with Maze all night. I just… really need to get back home. Make sure everything’s okay. You understand, right?”

“Of course! Absolutely.” He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

“But Lucifer, I can’t thank you enough for last night. Really. You were just what I needed.” Any hint of innuendo was lost under the genuine sentiment of her statement. Even Lucifer let the opportunity linger a moment, before defaulting to his usual banter.

“What, pour you a drink, take an absolutely _decadent_ shower with you, and fall asleep with you in my bed? It’s the least I could do, really.” But the affection glowing in his eyes told the truth of the matter.

She gave him a kiss and they rose, loose-limbed, from the bed, setting down to the business of dressing and getting themselves in order for the day. All too quickly, Chloe had gathered her things and was ready to depart, the urge to return home quietly growing.

She gave his hand a squeeze. “We’ll talk soon, okay?” He nodded, and she smiled softly up at him, before heading to the elevator, anxious to take stock at home and then face whatever this new day would bring.

\-----

Chloe pulled her phone from her pocket to check the time as she slipped into her car, throwing sunglasses on against the brightness of the morning. She was surprised to notice two missed calls from Maze from the night before, voicemail notifications lit.

She swiped at the screen to start the messages playing on speaker while turning out onto the road for home.

_Decker. It’s Maze. Hoping you're not dead since I haven’t heard from you or Lucifer, and he should have gotten there a while ago. So maybe, uh, call me to let me know. That you’re not dead or anything... Bye._ The message ended awkwardly. It must have come in while they were in the shower; she felt a little guilty for not noticing sooner.

The second one started…

_Decker. Maze again. You never called me back, and I even left a message, which I never do. But that’s ok. Because Michael just showed up, so now I’m pretty sure you’re not dead. He was_ sure _pissed about something, so nice work. And I did you a solid - I set him up. Trap is ready and waiting. But I’m sure you’re asleep now, because you go to bed stupid early. So call me when you get this. Oh, and Trix is fine. Been keeping her safe… So yeah, call me. Oh, and bring me my blades!_ She added before hanging up.

Chloe’s heart thudded at the new information, a million thoughts catching up. Michael had gone to the apartment. He had _gone to her apartment_ . But Maze and Trixie were safe - how could Chloe have ever doubted her? She made a mental note to give that demon a giant hug, whether she hated it or not. Maze’s blades were tucked carefully in her bag. And Michael… that absolute _bastard…_ Michael was set to walk right into whatever trap she and Maze could come up with.

She was _not_ going to screw this chance up. The corner of her mouth curled, fierce and determined, and she pressed down on the gas, engine revving as she hurried her way home.

\-----

Linda was surprised, though honestly not very, at the person gracing her doorstep when she answered the insistent knock that morning.

“Lucifer, hi. To what do I owe _this_ … unannounced visit?”

“Doctor, is Amenadiel here?” he asked, already sweeping his way inside. “There’s been some developments I really feel I could use both your advice on.” He’d rattled around the penthouse for as long as he could manage, trying vainly to relax, before his increasing agitation found him turning down her familiar street.

Linda left off her long-suffering sigh at the concern in his voice. This didn’t seem like one of his usual overblown “therapy emergencies”.

Amenadiel turned at the sound of his brother’s voice, strolling from the kitchen with Charlie in his arms. His cordial greeting was tinged with wariness.

“Luci, good morning. But what brings you here?”

“Hello, brother. I wish this was just a social call, but there’s something I’d like to discuss. If you don’t mind?” Amenadiel turned a furrowed brow towards Linda as she came to join them, and they all settled down in the living room.

“Luci, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Michael - our scheming, power-hungry brother - that’s what happened.” A sneer crossed his face. “Everything’s fine,” he added at Amenadiel’s startled response, “for now, but... not without a cost.” Linda and Amenadiel shared a worried glance as he went on.

“Michael tricked Chloe into meeting him at my penthouse.” His voice was uncharacteristically halting, and his use of Chloe’s name was equally unsettling. “I was away, I’d _left_ her, and he knew… he used that, to get to her. To get her alone.” He raked a hand through his hair, misery and frustration he didn’t realize he’d suppressed quickly seeping through.

“Lucifer,” Linda’s voice cut in, “is Chloe all right?”

“Yes, well, she’s safe. And she claims to be fine, but…” a sudden surge of emotion threatened to choke him, “I know, I _know_ , there’s so much she isn’t telling me. I just wish I knew what had happened, what that- that vile _monster_ had done to her.” He leaned forward, head in hands, the brief surge in anger at his brother quickly subsumed by the swirl of sympathy, powerlessness, guilt.

“Lucifer,” he felt Linda’s hand on his shoulder, “it’s all right.”

“How?” he sat up suddenly, and Linda flinched back, “how is any of this right? I’m not even the one who got hurt, and here I am, come crying to you, when she couldn’t even tell me what had happened.” A flash of guilt twisted bitter in his gut. “And now I’ve gone and told you.”

“Stop. Lucifer, what you’re feeling is all normal. It’s frustrating when someone you care about is hurting and you don’t understand why, know exactly what you can do to help. But I _do_ know that you can’t be there for her if you don’t take care of yourself. You did the right thing coming to us.”

“So, _now_ I’ve done the right thing? Well that’s just wonderful! But not when it mattered, not when it could have stopped all this from happening in the _bloody_ first place...”

“Lucifer, listen to me. What happened is NOT your fault. _Michael_ made those choices. If you need someone to blame, blame him. Not yourself."

"Oh, believe me Doctor, I already do. Amenadiel and I will deal with him soon enough.” He looked to his brother at this, who gave him a stoic nod of affirmation. “But what about the Detective? How can I help her when she won’t even talk to me about it?"

"Take it slow, Lucifer. Just be there for her if she does want to talk things through. You have the right to ask questions, but she can always say no. So be patient. Make sure she has the support she needs. And take care of yourself."

He nodded, the roil of emotions slowly beginning to calm. “Right, well my path to self-care starts with a righteous ass-kicking. And our brother has perhaps never been more deserving of it.” The punisher glint was in his eye, and Amenadiel returned it with his own look of impending celestial justice. Linda couldn’t help glancing down at the baby gazing up in wide-eyed fascination between them. 

“Please,” she cautioned, “be careful. I know you two are more than capable but just… think first, okay? Michael has shown he’s more than willing to fight dirty.”

Amenadiel immediately understood her concern, laying a protective hand on Charlie’s back “Of course, Linda. I promise we won’t go in unprepared. And we’ll make sure everyone is kept safe.”

“And besides,” Lucifer added, “I get the feeling the Detective would have my head if I didn’t let her know what we were up to. So there will, unfortunately, be plenty of time to ensure we’re being sensible about things.”

“Good, good.” Linda seemed reassured. “What about Maze?” She realized who she’d want at her back, in any fight. “Have you talked to her about what’s going on?”

“Actually,” Lucifer explained, “she was the one who tipped me off in the first place. Though, she didn’t know what was happening at the time.” A sudden thought struck him at that memory, a forgotten loose end. One that, frankly, he wished he _could_ simply forget. “Oh bollocks… Daniel,” he muttered under his breath.

“Dan?” Amenadiel picked up. “What about Dan?”

“You’ll be thrilled to know your drinking buddy has made yet another angelic friend. And, come to think of it, must have put together that you’re an angel too by now… maybe.” He didn’t have the greatest confidence in the Douche’s deductive abilities.

Lucifer continued at Amenadiel’s puzzled expression. “Michael got to him. _And_ made sure Daniel saw what I really am. Hence why he’s made himself so scarce lately. Except the part where he turned up to shoot me.”

“He did _what?_ ” Amenadiel’s shocked response could have been about most parts of that statement, or perhaps all of it. Linda’s jaw just dropped.

“Long story short,” Lucifer carried on, “we have a loose canon in the form of a Douche in mid-devil-freakout. Plus whatever brainwashing Michael managed to throw in on top.”

“Oh, Lucifer, that’s bad.” Linda said darkly. She remembered all too well how long it took her to come around after learning about his true identity. And she _liked_ him. She and Lucifer stared at one another, at a loss. Amenadiel’s voice surprised them.

“I’ll talk to him.” He looked confident, decisive. Lucifer shook his head, questioning. “Luci, Dan is my friend. He’ll listen to me. And if there’s anyone who knows how you are far more than what history and fear and lies have made you out to be, it’s me.” He turned that earnest smile on his brother. 

Lucifer found himself unexpectedly touched. “Thank you, brother. That means a lot.” Whether he meant the assistance or the sentiment, Lucifer didn’t elaborate.

“It’s the least I can do. Now, why don’t you stay here with Linda,” he held out Charlie to Lucifer, who reflexively grabbed him over a look of bewildered protest, “and I’ll go and talk to Dan. I’ll call you with an update soon.” He clapped him on the shoulder.

Lucifer gaped at him as he headed swiftly for the door. Linda came to his rescue, with a look of fond admonishment. “I’ll take this… if you go make us some coffee.”

“It’s the least I can do.” He echoed, making his way to the kitchen as he pulled his flask from his jacket. “Single or double?”

\-----

Chloe swept into the apartment, relief seeping into her the moment she crossed the threshold. The smell of burnt toast hung in the air. Maze and Trixie loitered together at the counter, crunching away happily like any other weekend morning.

Chloe dropped her things at the door and immediately went to her daughter, enfolding her in a huge hug and stooping to kiss the top of her head - barely, she was getting so tall.

Trixie seemed a little surprised, but not opposed, to this enthusiastic greeting. “Hi Mommy! I missed you too. How was Lucifer’s?” she asked brightly.

Chloe’s mind lurched for a moment at the question, but she set it aside for the moment to turn and pull Maze into a sudden embrace, burnt toast and all. Maze froze for an instant, before the shock faded and she gave Chloe a firm, one-armed squeeze back, hearing her quiet “thank you”.

Chloe turned to her daughter, whose earlier curiosity was definitely piqued by this display.

“Lucifer’s was fine, monkey. Just had some unexpected company that changed our plans a bit. But everything’s okay now.” Trixie could tell her mom was covering something up. But that was okay - she knew her mom was smart, and could take care of it.

“That’s good. You two always figure things out.” She smiled up at her mom with pride and a hint of understanding. It was their unspoken code, letting them be just a normal mother and daughter while Chloe was off risking her life on an everyday basis. All the more, now that the celestial cat was out of the bag. But at least Trixie hadn’t clued in on that yet… she hoped.

“Actually, Maze - speaking of sorting things out, can we talk for a minute?” Trixie once again picked up on the undercurrent, nonchalantly heading off to her room so the grown-ups could talk, pleased that she had this all figured out these days.

Chloe and Maze watched her door slide shut, before turning together in close conference around the kitchen counter.

Maze raised her eyebrows at Chloe expectantly, “So? What happened?”

Chloe was _not_ about to go through the whole story again, but knew Maze would be fine with the abridged version. “Michael tried to pull off some next-level bullshit with me. It didn’t work.”

Maze nodded, completely satisfied with this explanation. “Cool. You got my blades back?”

“Oh! Yes…” Chloe quickly fetched her bag from the hallway, setting the blades on the counter with some degree of satisfaction. Maze took them up, settling them in her grip again, giving them a few comforting twirls at being reunited.

“So,” Maze gazed lovingly at the darkly gleaming metal while she talked, “I told Michael I’d deliver him Lucifer later today. Nice quiet spot, perfect for an ambush. We should call Lucifer, let him know the plan-”

“NO.” Chloe’s voice cut across hers, sudden and firm. She took a breath to rein in her unexpected rush of emotion. “I just… I need to do this on my own.” She didn’t know she’d made that decision until she heard the words leaving her mouth. “I know Lucifer is more than ready to go after Michael, to make him pay for what he did... but  _ I’m  _ the one he hurt.” She firmed her voice, the bottom line clear: “This is between him and me.”

Maze grinned fiercely at her. “Now you’re speaking my language, Decker. But I got your back; I’ve got a bone or two to pick with that one myself. And besides,” she flourished her blades in emphasis, “you don’t bring a human to a celestial fight.”

Relief coursed up Chloe’s spine, unexpected, at Maze’s offer. The strength of that solidarity once again firming her resolve. She nodded, touched but determined, and blew out a breath.

“All right. Let’s do this.”


	6. The Last Time We Were Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang does their best to set things to rights, and make Michael pay for the damage he’s done. Will it be enough?

Linda’s day was turning out to be far more social than she’d planned, but at least her second set of visitors weren’t unexpected; Chloe had called shortly before to fill her in and, while Linda still wasn’t exactly comfortable with the whole situation, she was happy to help out where she could. Especially if it didn’t involve her personally confronting any ancient, extremely powerful beings. Again. 

She opened the door at the knock to greet Chloe and Trixie, Maze lurking a few steps behind them and already giving off bodyguard vibes.

“Hi Ladies!” Linda’s expression was a little extra bright with underlying nerves, but Chloe’s calm demeanor provided some much-needed grounding.

“Linda, thank you so much for agreeing to keep an eye on Trixie. She’s been  _ so _ excited to visit baby Charlie, isn’t that right, monkey?”

On cue, Trixie spotted him, sprawled out contentedly on a blanket. “He’s getting so  _ BIG _ !” she exclaimed, hurrying inside to confirm more closely.

Linda smiled fondly at them, as Trixie settled down on the living room floor, before turning back at the sound of Chloe’s lowered voice.

“Really, though Linda - thank you. Until we get things figured out with Dan, I wasn’t sure where else to go.”

“Amenadiel and Lucifer are sorting that out as we speak,” Linda reassured her, “It’s going to be fine.” Chloe blew out her breath and nodded, hopeful that was the case. Though now it was Linda’s turn to look anxious.

“You and Maze are heading out then?” Chloe gave another tight nod, determined. Linda studied her expression and chose her words carefully. “As a therapist, I completely understand your urge to confront Michael on your own. But as your friend, I can’t help but worry if this is a smart move. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to tell Lucifer?”

The concern in Linda’s voice shifted something in Chloe’s mind, threatening to crack through her resolve. It was so easy engaging with Maze to just be in revenge mode, all other considerations pushed to the side. It was exactly where Chloe wanted to be, needed to be, to get through the daunting task ahead.

But seeing Linda, this other  _ human _ perspective, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. All the other complicated pieces Chloe hadn’t allowed herself to think about. If she didn’t tell Lucifer, and something went wrong… would he ever forgive her? Would he ever forgive himself? And even if everything went right...

Chloe closed her eyes on a deep inhale, trying to keep her emotions from spiraling. Her plan was good, she  _ knew _ it was good. And, while it was a good thing to check in to her broader feelings... they ultimately didn’t change what she’d resolved herself to do.

“Linda, I hate not telling him. Really, I do. But, even with the  _ best _ of intentions, it would make this about him and Michael. Even if just in my mind. And it’s not. At least, not the part that I need an answer for.” She felt her own confidence settling back in at verbalizing it. A thought caught her unexpectedly, “You know what, I’d be more than happy to let Lucifer have his turn with Michael when Maze and I are done with him.”

“If there’s anything left,” Maze chimed in, still surveying the street.

Linda took this all in, looking understanding but still nervous. It gave Chloe an idea.

“How about this - if I don’t call you in an hour, you call Lucifer and Amenadiel and let them know where we are, okay?”

Linda’s relief was immediate and effusive, “Oh thank god, yes. This sounds so much better. Thank you, Chloe.” She let out another breath and raised her hand to Chloe’s arm, “But otherwise, you call me as soon as you can, right? Let me know you’re both fine.”

“Absolutely.” Chloe gave Linda’s hand a squeeze back.

Linda looked infinitely less worried, and was now just bouncing a bit with nervous energy. “All right then. You two, go kick some ass.” She added a few air punches in emphasis “And you,” she called to Maze, “make sure you keep her safe.”

“Piece of cake. This one’s a pushover compared to his brothers.”

“Wait,” Linda countered, “didn’t he manage to lock you in a closet?” Maze looked affronted.

“That totally doesn’t count! We were just talking, like, two seconds before that, it was a total cheap shot. And there’s  _ zero _ chance of catching me off guard this time.” One of her blades sang free in punctuation. “Too bad that won’t be the case for him,” she added with a grin.

Chloe pulled Linda in for a quick hug. “Thanks again, Linda. For everything. I owe you, big time.”

“It’s really no problem,” Linda assured her, “And hey, Trixie’s old enough, it’s practically free babysitting at this point. I might actually get something done… or just stare at my phone the entire time.”

Chloe smiled at her, “Bye, Linda.”

Linda waved her goodbyes as they headed to Maze’s car. “You call me!”

She watched till they were out of sight, trying her best to keep the worry from her face.

\-----

As thrilling as coffee and babysitting with Linda had been that morning, Lucifer was admittedly relieved when Amenadiel’s update had come through, as promised; Dan had been located, and plied with sufficient alcohol and reassurance that Lucifer was now being encouraged to join the two of them. Dubious as he was, he knew this problem wasn’t going to un-Douche itself, and had made his goodbyes to Linda to head to the address Amenadiel had given.

On entering, Lucifer vaguely remembered the place from one or more after work gatherings, wondering once again why cops were so fond of designating their own special ‘cop bars’. Though it was nearly empty at this time of day, the mid-day sun not making it far beyond the meager windows.

The two weren’t hard to spot at the far end of the bar, though Amenadiel still waved Lucifer over helpfully when he saw him enter. Dan was clearly a few drinks in - though how many were prior to Amenadiel’s arrival, it was hard to say - while his angelic companion still appeared to be nursing his first beer.

Dan couldn’t prevent himself from tensing as he watched Lucifer stroll towards them, fighting against the inherent threat he now sensed in that predatory grace. The solid weight of Amenadiel’s hand on his shoulder and his presence at his back kept Dan from bolting out of his seat entirely.

“Relax, Daniel,” Lucifer drawled at seeing this, “ _ You’re _ the one who tried to kill me the last time we were together, remember. I’ve no intention of harming you,” _ ...at the moment _ , he added mentally. Though the sentiment must have crept through in his expression, given Amenadiel’s responding look of alarm, quickly followed by an exaggerated smile, as if in demonstration. Lucifer caught the hint and instantly schooled his features into something charming and non-threatening. Though witnessing this effortless transformation may have unsettled Dan even further.

Lucifer hung back, a prudent few seats down the bar, and ordered a drink.

“Thanks for joining us, Luci.” Amenadiel’s voice was pitched even more deep and measured than usual, like he was trying not to spook a twitchy animal, “I just finished talking everything through with Dan here. Isn’t that right, Dan?”

Dan simply flicked a profoundly uncomfortable glance to Lucifer before looking back at his beer and taking a long draught. When no response seemed forthcoming, Lucifer chimed in.

“I’m sure Amenadiel’s filled you in on our charming brother, Michael. Trust me, I may be the one with the reputation, but he’s the one you need to look out for.”

“Trust you?” Dan gave a mirthless laugh, “I may know that you’re not gonna try to… to steal my soul or anything, but it’s gonna be a long damn time before I trust you again, man.”

“Fair enough,” Lucifer conceded with a sip of his drink, “as long as you stay out of my way, I won’t give you any cause to regret it.”

Amenadiel wasn’t thrilled with this icy accord, but he was willing to accept it. It was certainly an improvement from the two of them trying to inflict bodily harm on one another. Baby steps.

He questioned Dan, “Has Michael been in contact with you lately? Told you about any of his plans?”

“Nah, man. Haven’t heard a thing since he sent me to shoot you.” He tipped his glass at Lucifer, apparently not feeling too apologetic about the incident just yet.

“Well, he probably isn’t going to count on you again for anything, since you failed him so spectacularly.”

“Oh yeah? You’re welcome for that, by the way. Or would you rather be dead?”

“ _ You’re _ welcome for that, actually, Daniel. If I hadn’t gained back my invulnerability just then, you’d have one  _ very _ angry Detective on your hands. Not to mention you’d have wrongfully murdered a highly misrepresented angel, to the great benefit of his complete bastard of a twin brother. A fact which you now very well know. So you can thank me any time for stopping you making the biggest mistake of your generally regrettable life.”

Dan’s glass banged down on the bar, “And how was I supposed to know that, huh? I see your scary-ass face, you’ve been saying you’re the Devil this whole time, and some dude who looks just like you comes freaking  _ flying down from the sky _ to tell me it’s all true. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“You  _ know me _ , Daniel. Have known me for, what, five years now? And clearly we have our differences, but you don’t honestly think I would ever hurt the Detective? Your offspring? That this is all part of the longest, most pointless con of all time. All those murderers I’ve helped you put away are just another part of my nefarious plans.” Lucifer shook his head and downed the last of his drink, while Dan seemed to grapple with this.

“Look, man. I’m sorry, okay? But Michael… he really got in my head, you know?”

Amenadiel jumped in before Lucifer could pour any more salt in the wound, “Dan, we understand. Michael has always had a talent for manipulating people, for playing on their fears. Even us celestials can’t always see through it. It’s completely understandable that he was able to affect you the way he did. But now you know the truth, and no lasting harm done.” He leveled a stare at Lucifer, challenging him to disagree.

Dan seemed mildly heartened. “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” Dan turned his own stare at Lucifer, “I’m certainly not doing him any more favors. And, sure, I’ll let you know if he ever tries to get in touch with me again.”

Amenadiel clapped him on the shoulder in thanks, before turning to his brother. “Luci - should we let Chloe know that Dan’s… come back around?”

“Certainly politer than I would have put it.” Lucifer offered.

Dan gave him a sarcastic smile, before adding, “Actually, why don’t I call Chloe? I feel like I might owe her a pretty big apology.”

“At least that we can agree on,” Lucifer quipped, catching the bartender’s eye to get another drink while he waited on Dan to call.

\-----

Chloe waited anxiously, shadowed by the old awning of the forgotten building next to her, a relic of the zoo that once stood there. She tried to force her mind into cop mode, just another sting, but her feelings pressed in close. The air around her felt charged.

Her eyes flared at the sound of footfalls on the concrete, loose bits of gravel shifting, and her breath caught in her chest. Her hand twitched instinctively towards where her gun would have been, before she forced a slow breath, pressing her palms against her jeans. 

A shot of adrenaline sang up her spine as Michael came in view around the corner, scanning the area cautiously. He paused as he glanced to her hiding spot, head tilting curiously.

“Is that a Mazikeen I spy? No need to lurk in the shadows, my dear.” He gestured her over with a flick of his head.

Chloe’s nerves burned to anger at the sound of his voice. She stepped out into the light before he decided to come any closer.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Michael,” she ground out his name, relishing the look of surprise at her appearance, the thoughts she could see darting as he rapidly reassessed the situation. “See, you and I, we have some unfinished business to attend to.”

“Chloe,” he quickly recovered as she circled around, keeping her distance, “so nice to see you again. I agree, our evening ended a little more abruptly than I had hoped. Though if this is your way of telling me you’ve come around, you could have chosen a more intimate setting.”

There was a sudden flash of movement, and before Michael could react he felt the pull of a familiar blade lifting his jaw, another jutting dangerously at his back. Maze’s voice was dark fury behind him, “Is this intimate enough for you?”

“Oh, there you are Mazikeen. Back on the ‘whose side am I on’ merry-go-round, I see?” He hissed as the blade pulled tighter at that. “So what, now you two have teamed up? Letting your friends do your dirty work, Chloe,” he tsked, “I’m surprised at you.”

“I’m not stupid, Michael. As much as I may want to, I know I can’t take you out on my own. And I’m not about to die trying. As  _ honorable _ as you are,” Chloe added, “I thought you’d appreciate a fair fight.”

“Besides,” Maze tiptoed to whisper in his ear, “I volunteered.”

Any reply was drowned out by Maze’s feral yell, as she swung the blades wide and kicked Michael forward from behind. He landed roughly, recovering to raise his arms in defense as Maze stalked forward and slashed down at him. He scrambled back under the immediate onslaught of the demon’s blades, finally managing to get his feet under him.

Chloe watched in tense fascination; she’d seen Maze train, and take down bounties… but it was nothing,  _ nothing _ like the deadly fury spinning free before her, truly able to unleash her full skill, uninhibited. Even fighting with Lucifer and Amenadiel, which Chloe knew she’d done, she was likely never trying to  _ actually _ kill them. Which was not the case now…

Michael had gained a decent footing, no longer purely defending. The air sang with the bright flash of metal, heavy breaths, the scrape of feet as their combat raged on. A manic gleam shone in Michael’s eyes as he tried to press his advantage; he clearly had strength and reach on Maze, but that was nothing compared to her speed, the unshakable connection and finesse she had with her weapons.

Michael began to falter under the unrelenting attacks, a hint of panic creeping into his strained expression. He cautiously retreated, buying himself some breathing room to switch tactics.

“Are you forgetting everything I promised you, Mazikeen?” he wheedled between blows, “And the deal  _ you _ made with me in exchange.” Maze was having none of it.

“You broke our deal, Michael!” she launched a flurry of strikes at him in retaliation, “You said Chloe stays out of it. Why did I ever trust you? Why should I believe  _ anything  _ you  _ say?! _ ” She punctuated her accusation with vicious blows, which he narrowly countered.

“You’re right, Maze; you shouldn’t believe him.” Chloe circled nearby, feeding off her friend’s indignation, the blind, visceral justice unfolding. “Because every word he says is a self-serving, barefaced LIE.” Michael risked a glance to glare at her in response, startling as he dodged a strike in the nick of time. “But it’s over, Michael. Your grand schemes, your plans that hinge on  _ using _ us, not people just  _ things _ to manipulate to get what you want… NOT ANY MORE.”

Michael's eyes flashed in rage at her, and Chloe gasped, doubling over as his power lashed out at her in full force. As if in slow motion, she forced her gaze back up, heard Maze’s yell as she dropped low to sweep his legs out from under him. Chloe saw him fall heavily, the cloud of fear in her mind flaring out like a blown bulb as he landed, and Maze was immediately on him, blades crossed at his throat.

\-----

Dan paused with the phone to his ear, drumming his fingers on his glass. After a few moments, he tossed the phone down on the bar. “Oh well, she’s not answering. I’ll try her again later.”

Lucifer felt an unexpected surge of emotion, which he tried to tamp down. “Daniel,” he kept his tone light, “why don’t you try her again.”

Dan looked questioningly at him, but didn’t argue, taking a sip of his beer as he dialed again, eyebrows raised impatiently as he listened to the ringtone. He hung up again as Chloe’s voicemail picked up. “Yeah, still not there. What’s the big deal?”

Lucifer’s gaze swung over to Amenadiel, not bothering to disguise his unease. Memories of the night before - was it only the night before? - all too fresh, her line ringing unanswered...

"Luci, wherever she is I'm sure she's fine. She's probably just home with Maze. Talking. You know, about house… things." His attempt at reassurance evaporated as they shared a realization.

“One guess what the two of them would be talking about today,” Lucifer’s voice was dark, “And we all know Maze isn’t one to sit around gabbing when she could be, well, you know...”

“Fighting someone,” Amenadiel supplied helpfully. Dan nodded in agreement.

“Why do I even bother…” Lucifer muttered as he pulled out his phone. He stood to pace while it rang, forcing his usual brightness as her voicemail picked up, “Detective. I thought you might have just been ignoring Daniel, but it looks like you’re not answering in general at the moment. I’d really appreciate if you could call me back, since there’s villainous angels about and all. Oh, but one bit of good news - Dan’s not a douche anymore. Well, he’s still a douche, but not one in league with my brother and trying to kill me at least, so that’s an improvement. And I hope you aren’t off with Maze doing anything rash and demonic. Or even if you are, call me. It’s Lucifer. Bye.”

He sat down on a stool and took an agitated sip of his drink, casting glances down at his phone on the bar.

“Luci, don’t worry,” Amenadiel reassured him, “she’ll call.”

\-----

Time sped to catch up, and Chloe found herself glaring down at Michael, who strained in impotent fury against Maze's blades. With a sudden surge of anger Chloe crouched down, Maze immediately catching her intention, releasing one of the blades into her grip, while she kept the other held fast. Chloe inched it higher, as Michael strained to avoid the lethal edge.

“How does it feel?!” Chloe cried, tears springing to the edges of her vision. “How does it feel, Michael?” her voice broke with a sob, rage and sadness overwhelming. She blinked back the tears, and felt Maze’s hand come over hers, steadying her grip. She hissed and she felt the barest trace of terror crackle up her spine, snapping her back from her emotions. She twitched the blade closer in response and felt the sensation slink away, Michael raising a warning eyebrow at her even in defeat.

“So,” Maze’s eyes never left Michael’s “what do you want to do with this one now? Should we kill him?” Chloe felt her shift both blades fractionally, and wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. Michael didn’t seem sure either, given the panic that flashed in his eyes.

“No,” Chloe said slowly, releasing the blade to Maze’s grip and standing up. She looked down at Michael, powerless and trapped, beneath her. Without his allies, without his clever plots, what was he? Nothing.

“We’re done with you here.” She shook her head at him, “Go back to where you belong. Go back to your purpose. Don’t you have one of those? Isn’t your precious family wondering where you are by now? And you’re the one who went on about duty, about knowing your place…” she looked at him in disgust, “Just go.”

Maze looked at her dubiously, but Chloe gave her a nod, and she slowly let Michael up. He hissed as Maze nicked an edge against his jaw on the way, hand raising in reflex to press against the wound. He eyed the two of them warily, once again weighing his odds, testing his options.

Maze grinned at him, firming her stance, “We can go again if you want. I can do this all day.”

Michael gave a final, angry glance back and forth between them, his calculations coming up short, no brilliant rejoinders forthcoming.

“Fine,” he spat out in frustration, “this place sucks anyway.”

Dust from the neglected grounds billowed around them as he launched himself skyward. Chloe and Maze coughed against it, leaning a steading hand against each other.

“Ugh,” Maze tucked her blades away and swatted a hand in front of her face to clear the air, “for an angel, that guy's such a dick.”

They stood for a moment as things settled, recovering, and gazed around at the once again quiet space. Chloe turned to Maze suddenly and pulled her into a fierce hug. Maze only hesitated a moment this time before returning it. “Hey,” she brought her hands to Chloe’s shoulders, smiling at her from arm’s length, “nobody messes with my humans but me.”

Chloe laughed, relief and thankfulness and exhaustion catching up with her, “Of course.”

“Speaking of my humans - you better call Linda so she can stop freaking out.”

“Oh, right!” Chloe pulled her phone from her back pocket, brow furrowing at the missed call notifications. They were still well under the time they’d given Linda, thank goodness.

“Maze, actually do you mind calling her? I’ve got some-” she vaguely indicated the alerts on the screen.

She heard Maze calling and Linda’s relieved exclamation in the background as she listened to Lucifer’s message. Oh crap. It was only a few minutes old, so hopefully no harm done. She quickly called him back, not surprised when he picked up immediately.

“Lucifer, hi… Yes, Lucifer I’m fine.” She paused while he apparently conveyed this to his companions, and offered his thoughts in return.

“Actually… you weren’t wrong about that.” Chloe looked slightly chagrined, but she did her best to reassure him, “But Lucifer, everything’s fine. Michael’s gone. We took care of it... Yes, me and Maze. But actually, you said Amenadiel’s with you? Can you two meet us? We’re at that old zoo, you know, up by the observatory… Lucifer?”

She shook her head in mild exasperation and pocketed her phone. She’d barely had a minute to walk over and check in with Maze when a fresh blast of air and the snap of wings behind her announced Lucifer and Amenadiel’s rather dramatic arrival.

Chloe turned, still not quite used to them doing that, and surprised by how suddenly relieved she was to see her partner. The feeling was clearly mutual, and Lucifer strode to close the distance between them and took her in his arms, squeezing her tight to him. After a moment, he stepped back, looking her over in concern. “You’re really okay this time?”

Chloe laughed, “Yes, Lucifer. I’m really okay.”

“Girl’s better than okay,” Maze chimed in, “she sent Michael’s sorry ass packing, didn’t you?” Chloe nodded a little modestly. “I helped,” Maze added smugly. Chloe nodded more firmly at that. “Should have taken a souvenir when I had the chance, though.”

Lucifer seemed unfazed by this rather grisly notion, “And where exactly did you send him packing to?” he questioned.

“Heaven,” Maze replied with delight, “You and I will never have to see his stupid face again.” Lucifer chose to not be insulted, focusing on the more pressing concern.

“Yes, but what’s to stop him popping down here again next time he’s feeling like sowing some willful destruction?”

“Actually,” Chloe replied, “Amenadiel, that’s where I’m hoping you can help.” He looked at her curiously as she continued, “Would you mind heading up after him - you won’t have missed him by much - and making sure the rest of your siblings know what he’s been up to? I’m guessing they won’t be too happy about it.”

“Absolutely, Chloe. It’s high time he was held responsible for once. And I’ll make sure that involves keeping him away from Earth for good.”

Chloe looked greatly relieved, and thanked Amenadiel as he turned to depart.

Lucifer caught him quickly before he left, speaking in quiet conference, “Not that it seems likely, but… just make sure they don’t send him to Hell. Much as he may deserve it, I hate to think what he would make of the place, or vice versa.”

Amenadiel looked a bit puzzled, but nodded in agreement at Lucifer’s clear concern in this regard. He launched, much more gracefully than his brother, and was soon lost to sight.

Lucifer smiled slyly at Chloe, “That was a very wise notion, my clever Detective. I’m not entirely sure I trust my siblings to follow through, but a little tattling never hurt. It’s still far better than he deserves.”

“Yeah, well” Maze offered, “if he ever shows his face around here again, I’ll be the first to remind him what he deserves.”

“I’m sure I’ll get the full accounting later, but I’m guessing Michael won’t be eager to cross your path again any time soon, Maze?”

“Lucifer, you should have seen her,” Chloe was still a bit in awe, and turned to Maze, “You were incredible. Really.”

She waved a hand, still getting used to such direct statements of gratitude, “Like I said, the guy’s a pushover. How long have I been knocking heads with Lucifer, and now Amenadiel  _ and _ four years of chasing down bounties? And what’s Michael been up to? No contest.”

“And you, Detective,” Lucifer looked down at her, taking her hands, “I still don’t know what you and Maze were thinking, going after Michael on your own…”

“Well,” she flushed a bit in apology, “it was… complicated. I really wanted to tell you, but it was just something I had to do on my own. I know you and Linda have talked about closure before-”

He raised a hand to her check, gently interrupting her rambling, “I was going to say: but honestly, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Oh.” She smiled up at him in surprise, leaning in closer.

Maze glanced around, reading the room. “Well, I’m gonna leave you to your… couple things. Catch you later, Decker. Lucifer.”

“Bye, Maze.” Chloe called distractedly after her.

Now that they were alone, Lucifer sighed, running his hands up and down Chloe’s arms. 

“Detective, I must be honest with you, though.” He turned to pace a bit, wishing he had the balcony view that had become their usual backdrop for such conversations, “Of course I’m relieved that you’re all right. And I don’t doubt for a moment that you’re capable of taking care of yourself, believe me.” She nodded in assurance, “But… we always solve things together. Bad things happen when we don’t; I mean, look at what happened with Michael, because I’d left you to work the case on your own. Or even before then, I decide to stay in Hell when I know you’re in trouble, and that’s when he decides to swoop in in the first place.”

“Lucifer, I understand. It’s a scary world we live in, and bad things are going to happen. But you’re not always going to be able to stop them, or you’ll drive yourself crazy trying. Trust me, I’m a cop. I know how it feels.” He conceded her point with a thoughtful look. “And you did say you know I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, Detective, but that doesn’t mean we should choose to take things on alone when we don’t have to.”

A thought that had been sticking in the back of her mind these past few days surfaced. What they chose...

“True, but maybe a part of me wondered... if you know I can take care of myself, and if you aren’t, you know, choosing to be vulnerable around me anymore...” the question she’d been avoiding caught up with her quickly, crept through in her voice.

“Detective,” Lucifer laughed, but not unkindly, “for once you’ve got it all wrong.” This unexpected statement stopped her mid-worry. She looked up at him curiously as he turned and took her hands again, fixing her with an earnest gaze.

“I haven’t lost my vulnerability around you because I care about you less. I’ve gained back my  _ in _ vulnerability because I care about you more. More than ever.” He traced his fingers through her hair, his eyes achingly tender. “I can’t risk having my guard down around you, not anymore. You mean too much to me.” He took a breath and she felt her heart stop. “I love you, Chloe. As if there was ever any doubt of that,” he added with a gentle smile.

He nearly startled as she pulled him suddenly down into a kiss, recovering quickly to slide his arms around her and hold her tight to him, eagerly returning her affection. They sank gratefully into each other’s embrace, happy to lose themselves for a long moment in their relief, their emotions, their passion for one another.

She broke away at last to whisper, “I love you too, Lucifer. As if you didn’t already know that,” she added with a laugh.

“True, but I’ll never get tired of hearing it. So don’t stop any time soon.”

Chloe hummed with pleasure as she pressed her lips to his again, “Deal.”

He looked down at her warmly, a hint of seriousness coming to his gaze. “And next time, promise me you’ll tell me what you’re doing?” he asked kindly, “If you give me a chance first, I’ll do my best to step aside when you need me to.”

“Also a deal. Though I really hope there won’t be a ‘next time’ like this.”

“As do I, though trouble does seem to have a way of finding the two of us. But for the moment at least, it seems our worries are behind us.” He leaned down to punctuate that sentiment with a kiss. “So, what can I do for you now, Detective?”

Chloe let out a sigh, looking up at him and leaning back into his embrace, “Just take me home, Lucifer.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he glanced around, “though… I don’t suppose you drove?”

“Oh shoot, no, and Maze must have just taken the car.” Chloe glanced up at him, surprised by the playful smile beginning to light his features. 

His voice was warm with its usual mischief, “Well then, Detective, you’d better hold on.” 

Chloe barely had time to gasp before she felt the world falling away beneath her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks all for the amazing response to my debut Luci-fic and for coming on this alternate arc journey with me. Can’t wait to see what 5B brings! (assuming something *completely different* than this; was always intended as a “what if?” untold story).
> 
> I would, of course, love to hear all about what you enjoyed most in the comments!
> 
> Next up!  
> I’ll be digging into my pile of untold / alternate stories, as that seems to be my jam. Any moments from the show you’d love to see expanded on? Let me know! It was such a tragedy I didn’t get to write any Ella for this, so she may be next up! (something fun)
> 
> I’m also still gleefully cracking away on the many planned chapters of my other work, [Learning the Ropes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681230/chapters/67741319), if you’re interested in a much less angstful, still very character-driven, exceptionally dirty ongoing romp with these three. Say what? Yes what! It’s glorious. Totally alternate arc, naturally, set some point after the actual end of 5a. Also highly doubting this will become canon ;)
> 
> Thanks again, loves - catch you for more adventures soon!
> 
> PS: wait... there's another chapter? ;)


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait - there's a post-credits scene??

The unmistakable sound of rushing air made Lucifer look up from the drink he was pouring, currents chasing around the penthouse to tug at him. He turned warily towards the source, but relaxed the sight of Amenadiel alighting on his balcony, clad in his celestial garb.

“Ah, brother! Welcome back,” he called, raising his glass in greeting. “How did everything go?” His initial brightness was tempered slightly, seeing Amenadiel’s stoic countenance as he approached - even more so than usual, quite the feat.

“I’ve informed our siblings of Michael’s actions here on Earth. They were… sufficiently concerned to reconsider the leeway they’ve given him in the past.”

Lucifer nodded, pleased to have their support, but paused at Amenadiel’s reticent expression.

“Very good, and…?” he prompted.

“You know that thing you really didn’t want to happen…” he trailed off, voice flat with displeasure. Lucifer managed to keep his expression neutral as he felt the ground drop out from under him.

“Michael’s in Hell, isn’t he?”

\-----

Far below them, a dimension away, Michael curled his fingers around the arms of the throne, _ his _ throne now, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the next work in the series, [Darkside](https://youtu.be/HwFGCk6aPsw), coming soon...
> 
> ETA: [It's here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722146/chapters/73098633)


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